Avenging Angel
by Angelbaby1231
Summary: Hawkeye and The Black Widow bring in a young assassin after an assassination attempt on Hawkeye's life goes awry. Who is the young assassin and how does she let them know when she doesn't know who she is herself? Can she find friends in the Avengers? And most of all, can she help save SHIELD's soul? Set after CA:TWS Clintasha Pepperony romance in later chapters
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything accept Katerina/Katya. **

**Also, TRIGGER WARNING. Suicidal themes in the beginning. Also, there will be blood and gore. This is a story about assassins. Let's not be ridiculous and think it's gonna be all rainbows and butterflies. That said, I'll try to warn if it gets too graphic. This first part is going to be a little graphic, but not too bad. **

**I'm trying to keep the characters MCU version, but there will be a little of the Comics' background later. I can't guarantee success and let me know what you think, if you think they're in character enough or what. I want to hear from everyone! **

**Thanks for reading, here it is:**

She wasn't sure what to do about the man in front of her. He was a conundrum, something she'd never come across on a case before. There they were, her with a gun pointed at his forehead and him with an arrow pointed at her chest, both of them unwavering, and he had yet to release. He could probably impale her before she'd get a shot off, but he still hadn't let go, instead choosing to stare at her with those storm grey eyes, seeming unconcerned with their current predicament.

She wasn't exactly sure what to do either. He had shown remarkable agility and speed, if the blood still slipping down the side of her face was any indication. Of course, she'd gotten in a few good hits as well, but that was to be expected. She had seen him kill and had wondered if his hand-to-hand was as good as his arrow work and now she had her answer. It was a close one. In fact, she had been pleasantly surprised when he had managed to keep up with her. Not many people could fight her and live to tell the tale. Most didn't even have the endurance to make it last, which was always a disappointment. This man, however, had exceeded expectations.

"You're good." The slight smile on the man's face was enough to convince Katerina that he was completely insane, not that it mattered much. If she could just convince herself to pull the trigger, he would be dead and she wouldn't have to worry about him anymore. Actually pulling the trigger was harder than she had thought it would be, especially considering she could see just a small amount of fear in those storm grey eyes. Enough to convince her he wasn't the stone cold killer they made him out to be. Enough to convince her that maybe killing him wasn't the best idea in the world, no matter the consequences that would befall her if she let him walk away.

"So are you, it seems." She allowed, deciding that having a conversation wasn't the worst idea in the world. If anything, it would allow her time to think about what she was going to do, allow her to figure out what he was after in not killing her. After all, she had seen him kill hundreds of people without batting an eyelash, his partner was the same way. However, when it came to one silly little Russian girl, he couldn't seem to make himself release the arrow that would end her life. Even she had to admit that she would have killed the person opposing her by then should they have hesitated, even if they were only her own age.

"Yeah, well, I've had years of training." He said it proudly, like that was something to be proud of and Katerina stared at him for a moment before she realized he didn't think she was trained. He thought she was still but a child when she had more experiences of the world that he could possibly imagine.

"I have years of training as well." She answered honestly. His eyes clouded for a second and he seemed to be thinking hard, taking in her appearance and age as well as her weapons expertise and her skill at hand-to-hand.

"You fight like someone I know. Are you, by any chance, Russian?" He asked, squinting a little at her features. A small shrug of her supporting arm was all the answer he got. Because she honestly didn't know. She had been raised in Russia among the other Post Room candidates, but there was no saying where she was originally from, though, from the pale blonde of her hair to the almost icy blue of her eyes, she would say she was most likely Northern European. Maybe American even. But she would never know because there were no records, nowhere to look. She was basically without a past. "You're a lot like her, actually."

"The Black Widow and I have much in common." She answered clearly. That was the first time she noticed killing intent in his eyes and she wondered why. She had not threatened his partner, if they could be called that. She had watched them for months, waiting for a time to strike. The Black Widow was not assigned to her, was not assigned to anyone. She was to be left alone. So Katerina had waited and observed for almost a year, finding their routines and rituals amusing and slightly nostalgic.

She was not surprised that he had imagined a slight against his Widow. They had a sort of relationship most wouldn't understand, without kissing or sex but totally reliant on one another. It was like they were lovers without the physical aspect and he was unerringly protective of her as she was of him. Katerina had yearned for that sort of relationship with someone while watching them and maybe that was why she had yet to pull the trigger, had yet to end his life. Because she knew how important he was to someone. And, thinking back, she could remember his kindness, all the attributes the file didn't specify. He could lie, but chose instead to be unerringly honest when given the opportunity. She had never understood them, him, but now, she wondered what it would be like to live like the Black Widow. Free of the Rooms, able to choose her own assignments, able to make connections with people and not have it be a weakness.

"You know Natasha?" The name she had chosen for herself was quite personal in Russian culture, used as a nickname for Natalia only in the closest of settings. How she could handle being called that by people who barely knew her was beyond Katerina, but at least she had a name to call her own when Katerina only had a name given to her, just like the numbers marked into her skin.

"I have been hunting you for some time, Agent Barton." Was her only answer. His eyes narrowed and she watched him do the calculations, trying to figure out when she had started, when she had been there that they didn't know about. She let him try and figure it out and realized when he came to a day, one that was probably about a week off when she had actually first found them.

The day the Black Widow had woken him up and made him grab his go bag in the middle of the night, two forty three in the morning to be exact. They'd left three minutes later and she had driven like a bat out of hell, trying to lose Katerina before switching cars and driving to a SHIELD base where she had listed their occupancy as compromised. A SHIELD retrieval team had been sent to the location the next day to wipe out evidence of their existence before they had moved on again.

"A week before." She answered his unspoken thought, watching as shock registered on his face.

"That was almost a year ago." He reminded her, as if she didn't know. Sure, she'd had her fair share of other assignments during that time, but most of her life the last year had been dedicated to killing Clinton Francis Barton.

"Yes, it was. A year ago next Tuesday." She answered stoically, gauging his reaction. She wasn't prepared for him starting to chuckle.

"So the times Nat finally calmed down?"

"I assume I was on other missions." She answered honestly, watching him. He laughed in earnest now, his eyes crinkling and his chest heaving. His bow didn't waver, the arrow pointing at her heart not moving even a millimeter, but he was obviously enjoying himself. She waited until he calmed a little, her head unconsciously tilted to the right.

"She's going to be pissed when she figures it out." He informed her and she just nodded slightly in agreement, unsure how to respond. Her last acknowledgement of his partner had ended in his anger, she wasn't sure why he found it so funny now. Except that she understood more of their relationship than he realized. She knew that the Black Widow prided herself on her skills and finding out that a nineteen year old assassin had one upped her probably wouldn't tickle her like it did Hawkeye. He didn't seem even a little chastised that Katerina had managed to find him so easily. In fact, he didn't look too upset at all.

The night noises around them had picked up again after their fight, something scavenging in the garbage cans to their right. The blaring sound of a TV disrupted the night from the building to their left and cars honked in the distance. The cool air was enough to have Katerina's fingers going numb and her breath making clouds in the air in front of her. Hawkeye didn't seem bothered by the cold, but Katerina knew he wasn't raised in such temperatures like she was. He had to be cold, but he wasn't shivering, gave no sign he noticed the lowered temperature.

"So, we're at an impasse." Hawkeye offered casually. Katerina's eyes snapped to his and she tried to read the emotion there, trying to figure out what he was going to do about it. She figured that, if he was going to shoot her, he would have done it by then. She knew him well enough to know that he didn't draw out his executions. He wasn't a cruel man.

"I suppose we are." She agreed cautiously.

"You know, it doesn't have to be this way." He motioned to their weapons and Katerina wondered what he meant for a moment. Her mission was to kill him. That was the beginning and end of everything. Either he died here or she did and she wasn't about to let the Room win, not when she was so close. However, that also meant killing the man she had come to almost admire after watching him for so long. "You don't have to kill me. It's just an order and, you know, orders are meant to be broken."

His cheeky grin was enough to make Katerina consider his statement. He was right that it was just an order, but he was wrong too. If she failed her mission and went back, she was a dead girl walking. Even if he didn't kill her, they would. Disobeying orders, walking out of a mission, it would be too much and she would be dead.

"I do not think these are meant to be." She answered slowly, wondering if she was already dead. She had told her handlers she would have him dead by one thirty and it was well past two in the morning. Her lack of return might be enough to send them out, to end her life.

"I think there are places you could go that would be safe if you chose to." He answered carefully. She could practically feel him weighing out his words so as not to set her off, but she could do little to reassure him. She wasn't even sure what to do and that was the most terrifying thing of all.

Taking a careful step back, Katerina watched his reaction. He didn't attempt to follow her, but he took notice, perking up just a bit. He didn't look tired, didn't look worn, even if he had just fought her for almost half an hour before they'd reached their stalemate. He didn't even seem too upset about the blood that was slowly leaking out of his thigh from the knife wound she'd managed to leave him with. The bruising on his face was becoming more pronounced and she wondered if she looked as battered as he did.

Even before they had fought, he'd been on a mission, sitting on the roof of a building for almost two days straight before deciding to take the shot. He'd finished, but not without a fight with some security guys, one who had broken his nose. It was taxing to have to take them out, she could see it in his eyes, but Katerina's fight with him afterward would have been more of a challenge. Even after everything he had been through, he was still cracking jokes and attempting to talk to her. It was like the man she'd seen with Natasha and sent a small bolt of gratitude through Katerina, who was used to being treated like a soulless being. He treated her with the same kindness he showed anyone within his agency and she wasn't quite sure how to handle that.

So she did the only thing she could.

She took the shot.

It happened in a millisecond, but it felt like minutes as her wrist moved just slightly to the right, enough to miss his head completely and slam into the brick wall behind him. He only realized it as he was releasing, the sharp movement of him changing direction of his arrow the last thing she saw before she was impaled by the thing, the sudden hit sending her flying onto her back with the arrow lodged in her gut.

For a moment, there was only shock, that he'd missed, that she was still breathing, that he was running at her, saying something she couldn't understand in that moment.

Shakily, her hand went up to the wound, pressing just below where the arrow was stuck, and coming away sticky with dark fluid, which she knew to be blood. The copper scent and warm tackiness was enough to clue her in without Clint Barton hovering over her like a guilty child, ripping out a medical kit from god knows where and pressing gauze around the wound.

"What the hell were you thinking? I almost killed you!" It seemed to pain him, the thought of her death, but she was having trouble deciphering the English he was using as the pain became more and more unbearable. Even she had her limits and getting shot with an arrow was turning out to be one of them.

"You have five minutes before they arrive to extract me. I suggest you take it." Her Russian accent slipped through, but the message was clear. He needed to leave, before they found her and realized she failed. She didn't need to spell it out for him and that was probably a good thing because her brain was muddled and she was starting to drift between consciousness and unconsciousness.

"They'll kill you if they find you." He reminded her, the pain still evident in his voice. Looking up at him, finding those grey eyes drilling into hers, she nodded.

"Yes, they will." It was an honest answer and, for once, she wasn't afraid of that death. She was ready. Death had been stalking her for years, she was just too stupid to see it. After all the things she'd done, after all the lives she'd taken, she deserved whatever hell came after this life. It was time to stop hurting people. Finally, she'd be allowed to rest. Finally, she'd be allowed to end her own eternal torment. Even in death, she was selfish.

Hawkeye stared at her like she'd just ended her own life, which was what she had intended him to do. He was appalled and more than slightly upset judging by the look on his face. She understood his surprise. She'd seen the Black Widow and knew that a woman like that wouldn't let herself die so easily. She would have put up as much of a fight as possible, probably wouldn't have allowed herself to end up bleeding out in some back alley that stunk like cat urine.

But Katerina wasn't quite that strong and she was so tired. Not just physically, but emotionally. She knew what the punishment would have been and she wasn't going to go back and face it again. Her only redemption would be saving the man who was still trying to stifle the bleeding from her wound.

"It doesn't have to end this way, you could come with me." He offered, his voice strained. She just coughed a little, blood bubbling in the back of her throat. He'd been careful, but had still nicked a lung, which would end in her drowning in her own blood, a painful way to go in any sense. But it was one of the ways she'd imagined it would happen. One of the ways the Room would have allowed her to die. "You've seen what Nat and I do. We work for the government and the World Council. We choose assignments and get paid to do our jobs on a monthly basis. You'd have a place to live, a bunk, aliases all over the world. You'd fight for a cause."

He was trying to sell it, but he didn't seem to realize that it wouldn't matter soon. The cold was already seeping in and she was ready. If he would just leave.

"Three minutes." She forced out, not wanting to try and hope. It was so hard to dream of a life without pain, without nightmares that were so real she couldn't escape them. She just wanted him to go and find safety like she knew he could. Now that he knew about those who were hunting him, he could keep himself safe, maybe not hidden away but able to take care of himself in a way he wasn't before.

"I can help you. Let me help you." He was reduced to begging and she gasped as he moved, forcing her into an upright position. Her hiss of pain was ignored, though she didn't think he meant it that way. He meant it more like he was trying to save her life, the idiotic bastard.

She struggled to find her footing, deciding quickly that she would not lead to his death. He kept an arm wrapped around her waist, above the arrow that still protruded from her abdomen, his strength being enough to convince her to stand. She grit her teeth and forced the pain and wavering consciousness out of her mind, locking it all away in a metal box at the back of her mind. She was determined suddenly to make sure he didn't die because of her, something that had been culminating in her for as long as she'd been watching him.

"How much time do we have?" He asked as they started moving. She steeled herself and started to jog out of the alley, sweat beading on her forehead. The wind threw stray strands of pale blonde hair against the tacky blood on her face and it stuck there, out of her way. Coughing a little again, blood dribbled down her chin, but she didn't have time to wipe it away, instead just ignoring it as she reached up and pulled the pendant off of her neck, glancing around for a place to dispose of it at.

Seeing a car moving past the alley, she threw the necklace at it and was satisfied when it caught on the hitch, her own breathing labored as she started stripping off her weapons as fast as she could while trying not to further the damage.

"What are you doing?!" He sounded concerned, but she just shook her head, doing inventory of the weapons she had that couldn't have been tracked.

"My weapons could theoretically be tracked. Can't keep them." She murmured, letting him lead her around to a van.

"Here." He helped her into the back seat, throwing the med kit he had on him in back with her. Instead of waiting for him to help, instead of waiting for any assistance, she gripped the arrow tightly in one hand, bracing herself against the car door as Hawkeye slid into the front seat and started the van, whipping out of the hiding spot. Gritting her teeth, she ripped the arrow halfway out, the pained grunt catching her target's attention. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"Keep driving." She ordered, ignoring his skepticism. Gripping the shaft of the arrow, which was covered in her blood, she gave another good yank and almost passed out as the arrow slid out of her stomach, splattering the seat around her in red liquid. She felt only slightly bad about the mess as she ripped open a package of gauze and tried to stem the flow, a torrent of curses flowing from her mouth as she poured antiseptic onto the wound.

Another few packages of gauze and she could practically feel the relief as her mind went into full on shock, leaving her with nothing but black edged vision and the sound of someone yelling at her to stay awake.

**So, first chapter's up. Tell me what you think! **

**Angelbaby1231**


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright, so here we are, Chapter Two. Thanks to everyone who favorited and followed, I hope this lives up to your expectations. As always, there are some TRIGGER WARNINGS including mention of torture. This is one of the more tame chapters, the next one will have some more action. Let me know what you think!**

She woke with a panic she hadn't felt in a long time. Ninety nine percent of the time, the Rooms robbed her of her memories before she could wake, especially of missions failed or that went bad. They rarely left her with enough to fear, with enough to contemplate, but the stark white room around her let her know that she wasn't in one of the Rooms like she had hoped. The last mission hadn't been a dream and she wasn't hidden in her cell in the Post Room. No, she was in an unknown place, where they'd likely try to kill her.

The door opened and she hid her fear quickly, putting on a stony mask as she was faced with the man who she had saved. The one who had refused to leave her behind and the one who had shot her with his arrow.

She didn't let a hand stray to her stomach like she wanted to, instead keeping her gaze focused on Hawkeye, who was as dangerous as he was kind. He could kill her in a moment. This could all be a lie. There was no safe place for someone in her position. There was only one institution bent on controlling her or another and they were never quite different from one another. All they wanted was her skill, the set of skills she'd been forced to learn to survive. No one looked at her ledger and saw that the blood dripping off the pages was almost all hers. No one realized she didn't volunteer to kill people or take down other organizations. All they saw was the things she'd done.

"You shouldn't be moving." She hadn't even realized she'd rolled off the medical bed and taken up a defensive crouch, her back to the wall behind her. Another cursory glance showed that she wasn't just in the medical bay of some place, she was in a holding room with no chance of escape. At least, in their eyes.

Silence greeted his words because she had nothing left to say. He should have let her bleed out in that alley, it would have been kinder than the fate he had unwittingly subjected her to. She didn't want to have to run for the rest of her life, she just wanted to be free and death was the only answer she could conceivably see. It wasn't what she wanted in the end, she wanted to live, to see the things she saw in Hawkeye and Black Widow when they let their walls down and were just themselves, but that wasn't possible for her. She wasn't strong enough, she wasn't like them.

"You were given twelve stitches on each side. They said you made a bloody mess of the wound and they could have gotten it out with less scarring if you'd left it in. You also wouldn't have lost so much blood, but I think you knew that. That's why they sent me in. They think I'll be able to get you to talk." Hawkeye, dressed in jeans and a tee shirt that strained over his shoulders in a deep purple, laughed at the assumption like it was ridiculous. He was partially right. She had no intentions of talking to anyone, though she was probably most susceptible to him if she was being honest with herself.

He moved around the room slowly, letting her see his intentions before he did anything. She could see the guns that rested under his arms and the bruises that covered his face. His gate was easy, collected, and she knew he was used to being around people who could kill him with no more thought than was necessary to breathe. After all, he lived with the Black Widow. However, she was more interested in the fact that he was letting her see his weapons and letting her see his intentions before he did anything, something most people didn't do in her presence.

He sat in the chair in the corner, a good view of the room and the door, as well as the two way mirror that was on Katerina's left. He had optimal viewing of the place, but didn't seem worried about any of those things that she was worried about. He was more worried about her, and her wound.

"I'm not here to hurt you, you know that, right?" He asked, his voice taking on a serious, sincere tone as he watched her, for the first time uncertainty lacing his voice. She just blinked at him, knowing the truth. Everyone was out to hurt her. She was on her own in enemy territory and she was pretty sure that the enemy was the ruined remains of SHIELD. Whatever was left was made up of the only loyal servants of the department, only a handful of people.

She had been on a mission when SHIELD's helicarriers came crashing down, courtesy of Captain America, who hadn't taken any prisoners in the end. He was someone she looked up to, someone with clear principles, one of the few people who understood war in the same way she did.

"SHIELD is meant to protect people. Even people like yourself. You saw what they did for Natasha, they can do that for you too." She shot him a withering glare at the blatant lie, hating him for even trying to play that one off.

"SHIELD is in ruins. It does not exist and the people who do within it are more than likely HYDRA agents just waiting to strike. I do not want help from a place like that." She managed through clenched teeth. In all honesty, she didn't want help at all, but she wasn't about to tell him that. She wished she'd died before, when she'd intended, on her terms. What was she going to do with the life he had left her with? Be hunted down? It didn't sound that appealing, but neither did asking him to kill her when the answer would be a resounding no.

"There are a few that are still loyal and we are trying to find them. What do you know about the take down of SHIELD?" He asked, suddenly suspicious. So many mood swings for someone who was supposed to be a cold hearted assassin. Katerina felt bad for the Black Widow in that moment, dealing with his ever changing moods.

"I know that HYDRA has hidden within SHIELD since the beginning, out of sight, waiting for the day when they could rise to power again. I know that HYDRA is always recruiting, usually young, idealistic children who are more susceptible to their view of the world, but they are not above brainwashing their followers. SHIELD should beware." She informed him, thinking of a specific case she wouldn't mention. No one needed to know just how intimately she knew HYDRA's plans.

"How do you know all of that?" He asked, sounding on guard suddenly, as if he hadn't thought she could be involved in something like that.

"SHIELD was not the only place HYDRA made a playground of. Their technology ended up in the hands of the Rooms. Every agent of the Rooms knew of HYDRA long before they came out." She didn't mention that she had been on the receiving ends of some of their treatments, instead waiting for Hawkeye to come to a decision.

"I was instructed to ask you a lot of questions, but the first one I want to ask, the one I want an answer to, is this. Do you want to live?" Staring each other straight in the eye, his storm grey hitting her pale blue, she thought, really thought about this question in a way she had been avoiding for so long. Did she want to live in a world that had only managed to hurt her? Did she want to continue this existence that tortured her beyond measure? Did she want to find out if there was more to life than killing and beatings?

"If I never am to return to the Post Room, then yes, I want to live." It was a simple answer. She had fought with everything she had to survive their tortures and here she was, given a way to change. Maybe it wasn't what she'd had in mind in her day dreams about being free, but it was better than what she'd been through.

Hell, instead of torturing her for answers, as she knew they could, they'd patched her up and set her broken bones, which were currently in casts. She figured they'd re-broken them at some point, but couldn't pull up a memory. The only explanation for that was drugs, but there was no discomfort pointing to any unwanted sexual activity and there was no sign of surgery for more than just fixing the damage that was already there. Just signs of broken bones put back into their rightful places and her wounds stitched together firmly.

"Good. Next question, can you be loyal to SHIELD?" He was watching her carefully and she knew that the Widow couldn't be far away. She was more than likely on the other side of the glass, which meant she couldn't lie. Loyalty wasn't something she was known for. She did whatever she had to to survive and that occasionally meant killing partners she'd worked with before. Loyalty wasn't a foreign concept, but it was hard to come by in her line of work.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I will never be loyal to HYDRA." She answered, which seemed to be enough for the Hawk.

"Alright. Close enough. What's your name?" Such a simple question, yet it sent Katerina into a near existential crisis. Her breathing quickened and she suddenly didn't want to answer his questions anymore. She wanted to back away slowly, leave the conversation behind, and never look back.

So instead of answering, she stuck out her left arm, the one that wasn't in a cast, and let him see the inside of her wrist, where a barcode and a series of numbers were branded into her skin. That was her name. It was who she was. She was the code against her pulse, the only thing she knew with certainty.

The Hawk stared at it for a moment, in shock probably, before the door opened and in strode the infamous Black Widow, her red curls pulled back into a ponytail and her green eyes taking in the code like she was simply seeing a name written there. She was wearing jeans and a black leather jacket over a white button up shirt, black ankle boots on her feet. She was armed, Katerina could see that much, but she wasn't about to pull out a weapon anytime soon either.

"We need a name for our records. Pick an alias." The Widow ordered, her tone brooking no arguments. Biting into her lip, Katerina took a moment, spacing out and starting to remake herself again, one piece at a time, until she came up with a memory she hadn't ever forgotten, one that stuck with her.

A man, no older than mid twenties, had been thrown into a cell with her one day. They had been in solitary, her beaten until she couldn't move and him not far behind. Whatever they had wanted, he had given them, and she was his reward. It was a lewd system, but she was used to it, had even been stripped down to her underwear before being shoved to the floor like an animal before him, the guards informing them that he had an hour with her to do what he wanted.

He'd just lain there at first, as weary as she was, before he'd moved to get up. Her responding flinch was a downfall, but he hadn't even reached out to touch her. He just pulled off the first layer he was wearing, a plaid button up over a white tee shirt that was stained copper with his blood. Then he'd laid the shirt over her, covering her mostly naked body with his own shirt.

They'd stayed on the floor for the entire hour, neither of them moving, while he talked to her, his voice lulling her into a sense of security she'd never felt before. He had little in the way of memories, they had wiped him before they'd been thrown in together, but he knew his name started with a B and he told her no one had the right to use her body against her will. He'd been kind to her, even though she'd done nothing to deserve it. At fourteen, she'd had no idea how to talk to him, how to react to genuine kindness from another person.

All he'd asked in return was her name, which she had given him. He hadn't approved and had then renamed her Katya, a name that rose to her conscious mind and stuck.

"Katya. Katya is my name." She finally answered the woman before her. It was an intimate version of the name Katerina, reminiscent of the woman before her, but she ignored the similarities and waited while the Widow watched her, her eyes taking in every little movement Katya made.

"Last name?" Tougher. It was harder to find something that fit. She had no last name to go with Katerina, it was simply the name she was given in the lab. But that man, the one with no name, had said his started with a B and she'd seen a file one day, one with names that started with Bs. Thinking quickly, she extracted the information from her mind, coming up with something that sounded old fashioned and American, as opposed to the name she had chosen.

"Barnes. Katya Barnes." She announced. This had both of them staring at her, like she had suggested something ridiculous, but they couldn't know who she had named herself after, the man with no name who was a menace in his lost state. They couldn't know about the myth, the legend that she had encountered. Because to them, he was just that. A myth.

"Alright. Age?" The Widow asked, which would be easy to lie about. The older she claimed she was, the more they would believe her testimony. Or the more they would question her allegiances. She was better off going with her real age because, should they ever find out, they would figure her a liar. And she couldn't afford to make them her enemies after turning her back on her own organization.

"Nineteen. I think." She added that on as an afterthought, wondering how old she really was. When she was four, she'd been told it was her fourth winter, so she'd gone with that age, never questioning it. As far as she knew, she could be anywhere from seventeen to twenty two.

"Birthday?" The Widow had to know that that wasn't an option. She didn't even know how old she was, how was she supposed to know her birthday? "Just pick one. We need it for a file."

"January First." She answered after a moment. A new year, a fresh start, it was an appealing thought. And it was inconspicuous. The Rooms wouldn't think her sentimental enough to choose a date that would stand out. They wouldn't look for a holiday or a notable date, so it would work for her purposes. Plus, it was easy to remember.

"I need to know which Room you come from." The Widow informed her, which had Katya tensing, her body tightening like a bow string ready to snap. She glanced at the door out, wondering if it was too late to make a run for it. She could kill everyone in her path, she'd done such things before. She didn't want to kill the people in the room with her, but she could knock them unconscious and be gone in seconds. "It's so I know what you have been through and what to expect of the training you received."

This calmed her marginally, the cold logic of the statement letting her slump a little in her crouch, which was beginning to become painful. She pushed the pain back behind the lingering hum of pain killers and focused on the problem at hand.

How much could she trust them with?

"The Post Room."


	3. Chapter 3

Two days of questioning and they had yet to let her out of the cell they'd thrown her in originally. Meals were delivered three times a day, wholesome food that she picked at and only ate when she was on the verge of passing out. The Hawk, who insisted she call him Clint, rarely left her room, always joking around and trying to get her to loosen up while The Widow asked question after question, gauging her reactions and cataloging whatever data she came up with. Katya had become unconcerned with her indirect line of questioning after the first few hours, realizing she was trying to extract other data as well with her well-aimed questions.

Katya was becoming tired of their games. Clint said they could help and they weren't doing much of anything accept keeping her prisoner and boring her to death. It was when she woke up to the sound of an alarm that she was on full alert and realized they couldn't keep her safe enough to not get her killed.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she was on her feet in less than a second, one of the chairs the assassins used during their daily questionnaires in her hands. She swung it around and slammed the uncomfortable metal contraption into the two way mirror, shattering the mirror on impact. She ignored the sting of new cuts forming as the glass exploded around her and vaulted the low wall before the guards outside had a chance to grab their weapons to retaliate.

She landed in a low crouch, the surgical scrubs they'd given her to wear perfect for her purposes as she launched herself at one of the guards, her elbow hitting him in the face instantly. He was down for the count before the others could brace themselves as she grabbed the gun right out of his hands, stripping him of his belt as she shot both the other guards with his tranquilizer gun, knowing it wouldn't show kindly on her if she killed them like her instincts screamed for her to.

Fitting the belt around her waist, she found it too big, but cinched it shut, scowling as she realized they didn't have her weapons lying around for her to use. Pulling a real gun from the weapon's belt, she started out of the surveillance room and into the hall, finding SHIELD agents running all over the place, some barking orders into headsets while others were just running, trying to find the source of the break in.

Shrugging her shoulders delicately, Katya moved back into the room and took an ear piece out of one of the guard's ears, wiping it on his shirt sleeve before sticking it in her own ear. They were custom made to fit, but she could hear the orders and figured out where she wanted to be from the coordinates someone higher up was listing off.

Turning in that direction, she took off, ignoring the wrap on her ankle, which was taking care of a particularly gruesome broken bone that they'd had to pin back together. It had healed all wrong and the re-breaking process was something Clint still talked about two days later with awe. It was painful to run, but she ignored all the pain, gun in hand, as she made her way to the break-in point.

"Prisoner 52216125 has escaped. Do not engage. I repeat, do not engage. She is armed and extremely dangerous." Oh, that was just peachy. They let everyone know she was out and she'd have to fight more than a few brave idiots before she made it to her destination. Sighing a little in defeat, she exchanged her real gun for one of their stun guns, her left hand being her dominant hand, thank goodness. She managed to clasp a knife in her right hand, even with the blasted cast in place.

She saw someone coming at her from one of the windows ahead, he was going to attack from behind, but she turned and deftly took the shot, not sighting him from that direction at all. He went down and she shot the one behind him too, not feeling the least bit bad about it. Turning back towards the front, she found her way mostly clear, with a few lab techs running in the other direction.

She wondered briefly what had them so scared, what could make them run away, but it didn't matter at that point. Whatever it was, it was coming whether she was worried or not, so she might as well meet it on her own terms. Fear was an afterthought as she ran towards the sound of gun shots.

Keeping up the pace, she made it to the room indicated through her earpiece in no time. There was a huge hole in the wall across from the doorway and Clint and the Widow were fighting alongside two other agents of SHIELD, clearly labelled by the vests on their chests. One was a small woman who was taking out people almost as fast as the Widow herself and the other was a tall man with dark hair that all three were watching warily from the corner of their eyes, as though he might turn around and attack them as well.

Putting up her gun, she steadied it on her cast, sighting the men fighting Clint first. He was in Hawk mode, firing arrows left and right as well as using hand to hand when needed. She took three shots in quick succession and dropped all the men who were close enough to hit him. She didn't pause as he glanced her direction, turning her attentions to the small Asian woman who was fighting a few feet away from the Widow. Sighting her opponents, she took out two before someone grabbed her from behind, by her hair.

Grunting, she swung around and elbowed the man in the face, not surprised to find that it was a SHIELD agent who held her. He was weak and she immediately pinpointed him as HYDRA and not SHIELD, even though the SHIELD emblem was stamped across his chest in bold letters.

Spinning around in a circle, she used her momentum to kick up and slam her heel into the back of his neck. The disorientation was enough for her to turn around and shoot him point blank, blood splattering her clothing and cheek as she kept spinning, throwing the gun to the side and grabbing another from the belt. Orders were blaring in her ear, orders she didn't care about, so she ripped out the device and threw it away, sighting someone sneaking up on the Widow and taking the shot without blinking an eye. The woman went down instantly, leaving Katya to throw herself into the mess that had been created as though she belonged in their team. In their agency.

Jumping over bodies proved painful when coupled with her broken bones, but it was manageable as she launched herself off the closest body like it was a trampoline, connecting with a solid man seconds later, one who had been about to attack the last fighter in the SHIELD arsenal.

She piggy backed him, slamming the butt of her gun into the back of his head and clubbing him across the face with her cast all in the same move. The cast miraculously broke as he fell, her jumping off to receive a nod of thanks from the guy, who had a busted lip and a bruise that was already tinging black across half his face. He was practically dripping with sweat, his brown eyes flicking back to the attack before he looked her over one last time.

She nodded back, peeling the remaining parts of the cast off before flexing her hand out a little bit. She had clear stitches along her wrist from where they'd probably pinned that bone as well, but it didn't bother her. Especially considering she could still move her hand with less pain than she'd braced herself for. Reaching down, she pulled out another gun, this one probably a stun gun, before turning to face the hole in the wall where men and women were still pouring into the building.

"How many more are there?" She asked the man next to her, who seemed surprised by her voice. She ignored the look he shot her before he glanced at the small woman on his other side.

"Don't know. There were three dozen that broke in at various points." He informed her.

"They have people on the inside." She announced as she switched positions, spinning to face the doorway she'd come in from, her guns raised steady.

"What?" The small woman asked, her voice sharp and commanding.

"How many?" Clint asked at the exact same time. His voice was clearer and more pronounced, so she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, seeing that he was still suffering from that same broken nose, though it was bleeding again. He also had a cut above his eye that was gushing blood down his face, not that he seemed to notice or care.

"Don't know. Already took out one." She motioned to the body with the SHIELD logo on it before tensing at the sound of uniform footsteps coming down the hall.

"How do we know she's not HYDRA?" The small woman asked, her face stony and empty. It was a good cold mask, but Katya saw the minute traces of anger and distrust, which made her like the little woman. She knew not to trust anyone and that was a good thing in Katya's book.

"HYDRA is the last thing she'd be." To Katya's surprise, it was the Widow who had spoken, her gun going off a second later as more HYDRA agents tumbled through the opening in the wall. Clint spun in that same moment to face the same way as Katya, though she doubted he'd be able to tell HYDRA from SHIELD. He knew them as fellow agents, not as something as nefarious as an underground organization bent on taking over the world.

"You got my back?" The man next to her asked, taking another shot. Katya was shocked he'd trusted her with that, but nodded slightly, letting a bullet fly as a warning to the HYDRA and SHIELD agents coming to them.

"You got mine?" She asked back, seeing as it was only polite. His grin that broke out was enough answer for her and they went about their business almost like partners, him moving to press his much larger back against her smaller one, shielding her and keeping her out of sight in case she was needed. Smart.

The siege started at around the same time, SHIELD agents mixed with HYDRA. Clint wasn't taking any shots while Katya was sighting them easily enough. They were the ones that were shooting at their group while the SHIELD agents were shooting behind them at the HYDRA agents. It was only when one of the dumber HYDRA agents took a shot at a blonde agent in front of him that Clint got into the fray, shooting that one and then figuring out who was who after he finally decided that the people coming into the room weren't all on their side.

Katya shot off enough that she was out with one weapon and low with the other, her hands automatically searching for extra clips. "Who the hell doesn't pack extra clips in their utility belts? Are HYDRA agents really that moronic?"

She hadn't meant to yell it, but the man behind her elbowed her back gently to get her attention as Clint shot her an amused look, even as he took another shot, his arrow slicing through a HYDRA agent right before he took the kill shot of the blonde who had been shot in the shoulder before.

"Back left on my belt." The man behind her informed her and she automatically reached out and found what she was looking for, barely touching the man himself as she took four clips, slipping two in her belt and sliding the other two into her weapons as Clint covered her so she could change clips.

Soon, she was back into the fray, gun shots echoing in her ears and pain sliding through her body from old injuries. She hadn't managed to get hit yet, but she figured it was only a matter of time until someone got the best of her. Soon, the blonde agent who had been hurt before was by her side, determination etched on her face. She didn't even question Katya's loyalties, just nodded stoically and kept shooting, only this time she was shooting at her own agents.

"This is getting old real quick. What's the plan?" The man behind Katya asked, his voice raising over the din. Katya listened carefully for someone to respond, knowing it wasn't her place to give a theory. She couldn't say what to do anyway. Their facility wasn't safe anymore, that was for sure, so evac was in order. That didn't mean those with SHIELD agreed. Besides, she was sure there was information that needed to be destroyed before they all left. Not only that, but there were scientists that weren't field cleared and she was sure there were others on base that would need help escaping if HYDRA was within the facility to the extent she suspected.

"May, Carter, you stay here with Cortez and Carter. Hold them off on that side. Ward, Katya, you're with Clint and I. We're the evac team." The Widow's voice called and the man behind Katya traded places with the woman to her left, keeping up a steady flow of bullets.

"Katya, you okay to fight?" Clint worried too much. That was what Katya was learning.

"It's just a few broken bones, Hawk. Nothing I can't handle." She informed him in good humor, ignoring the slice of pain along her thigh as a bullet slid past her and slammed into the wall a few feet away. Hot blood splattered a little, coloring the pale blue of her scrubs, but the only one who noticed was the man next to her, who must have been Ward.

"She's trained for this, Barton." The Widow started moving forward as she spoke those words, not fazed by the bullets being shot in her direction. Katya followed her lead, wondering if they would make it to wherever she wanted to be. And also wondering how far she'd get if she attempted to escape…


	4. Chapter 4

Katya was crouched with Ward, who had introduced himself seconds ago as Grant Ward, Agent of SHIELD. She had simply told him her name, no affiliation and he seemed to understand better than most. Either way, they were fixing explosives to the computer mainframe of the facility, Ward doing most of the work.

Katya was handing him the blocks of explosives while keeping her gun trained on the door, their work steady, but hurried. He was good at finding placements while she was good at sighting enemies before they got too close. It was a dream partnership and Clint and the Widow must have seen it when they were going down the hall because they'd left them to it to go get the scientists and the rest of Ward's old team, whatever that meant.

"Almost there." He informed her, sounding a little like he was in pain. She wasn't surprised by the amount of blood that was coming from his left side. He was wounded, but she'd already dismissed it as nothing serious so long as he didn't bleed out for too long. If he bled out too much longer, he'd probably lose consciousness and she wasn't sure that she could carry him out of the building on a broken ankle. Hell, she wasn't sure why she was even considering carrying him out of the building on a broken ankle to be honest. "And we're done."

Katya stood up and fired two shots as bullets assailed her from the opposite window, shattering glass and sending her ducking down again.

"I thought we were underground." She grunted, swiping at the cut on her cheek from the raining glass.

"We were before we went up five flights of stairs. How can you forget that part of our adventure?" He asked with a grimace. He was checking his clips, she had one left and knew it. Then he was handing her two more, a grin on his face and a light in his eyes that she understood all too well. He enjoyed this part of their job just as much as she did.

God, that must make them psychopaths.

"Let's go. We have ten minutes to clear the building." He announced before standing up facing the now pane less windows. Katya was up next to him, facing the door way, both of them shooting as they started out of the room via the doorway.

Ward hit the fire alarm as they passed, sounding the alarm through the entire building. It was an alert to the Widow, something they had all agreed on, considering it also alerted the rest of the building. Katya could practically hear the HYDRA flunkies cursing as soon as it started going off.

Their mission was going to fail.

"We need to get out of here before this place blows." Ward reminded her, like she didn't now. Ten minutes to make sure that they didn't die in the upcoming explosions. Their explosion was just the start of it. The Widow and her Hawk were setting up more around the building and it was going to be a big blow out.

"Where is the meeting place?" Katya asked seriously, shooting someone on their left. They both halted when someone came running up on their right, her brown eyes wild.

"What's going on? What are you doing here?" Her English accent was pronounced and it was obvious she was worried, but she didn't seem afraid of Ward. More wary of him. And of Katya, who she eyed like a loaded gun. That was when Katya realized that she still, indeed, had a loaded gun aimed at her.

Sweeping the weapon in an arc to face the other way, she shot twice, taking out the upcoming assailants without looking. She could tell just from footsteps who was trained like her and who wasn't. The British girl before them wasn't. In fact, she didn't look like she was trained for anything.

"Simmons, I know this is a lot to ask, but I need you to trust me." Ward actually sounded concerned, which had Katya tensing automatically. She was used to being thrown into partnerships and read him easily, even when he tried to hide it. Something must have broken him recently, but she didn't have time to figure it out. They were down to eight minutes and they still hadn't made it to the extraction point.

"Trust you?! After what you did to Fitz?!" She sounded borderline hysterical, so Katya cut in.

"No matter what Agent Ward did or didn't do, this place is going to blow in eight and a half minutes. Unless you want to be a part of that explosion, I suggest you follow us." When the woman looked at her, fear and confusion battling in her eyes, Katya lost patience. "Now!"

The woman, Simmons, jumped to the order, hurrying over to them, but not before shooting Ward an angry look. He didn't respond to it, just grit his teeth and took hold of her arm, starting down the hall at a clipped pace.

Katya found it almost difficult to keep up with him, but didn't say a word as they started down the first staircase, each step jostling her ankle. She didn't have to wait long to stop, however, as soldiers fired at them from the floor below, their aim sloppy and exaggerated.

Katya knelt down and sighted them through the metal grating, taking out three before they realized what she was doing and started centralizing their strike on her.

"Come on, we'll go up." Ward dragged her to her feet and she noticed that he was pale and sweating, probably clammy as well. He wouldn't last much longer with the wound to his side and she wasn't in the best shape to take both of them, but he kept moving like a real soldier, pulling Simmons with him as Katya brought up the rear, holding off the HYDRA agents. She kept her opinions about the roof to herself, knowing there wasn't going to be an extraction from that point.

She didn't think Simmons could handle the thought of being on the roof for the explosion and Katya didn't want to throw the girl into hysterics. She didn't do tears well.

"We get up there and see if we can get to the next building. How long?" Ward asked, trying to sound confident. Too bad the next building was probably a few yards away, a jump they'd never make. Katya probably could on a good day, but it wasn't a good day and she wasn't alone. She didn't think SHIELD would look kindly on her abandoning two of their loyal agents to save her own ass.

"Four minutes and forty eight seconds." Katya rattled off, not bothering to look at a clock. One of the nifty little gifts the Room had given her was the ability to tell time anywhere in the world. Her internal clock was always right. It actually helped out more than they had probably hoped.

"Faster." Ward ordered, starting to run instead of jog. Simmons was basically being dragged behind him, not that she seemed to notice as she stumbled to keep up. Katya just took off after him, noticing that the HYDRA agents were trickling off the higher up they got. They probably didn't want to die in the explosion either, though the HYDRA men were surprisingly suicidal with their decisions.

"Two more floors." Ward informed them a minute later. Katya took a deep, steadying breath, hoping that he was telling the truth because they were running out of time. Tucking her guns away, she started inventorying the belt she had on, pursing her lips at the lack of supplies. Seriously, were these people not trained? It was like a child's kit, not a grown operative's.

Cursing under her breath as they hit a landing, she pulled out a rope and scaling equipment, which was useless without a spike. She found the spike in a back pocket and the launch gun was there as well.

Attaching all of it as she went, she bit into her lip to keep from cussing like a sailor when it was a tight fit. Sending up a prayer to whatever deity was listening, she coiled the climbing wire, ready as they hit the roof, Ward slamming through the door and finding that they were in the middle of nowhere. There were trees all around, but that was it.

That would have to do.

Katya kept running past the two of them, taking aim and shooting before she could think about it. She caught the back of the rope and held it as the spike drove into the bark of a nearby tree.

"Go." Katya ordered. Ward ran over and viewed her makeshift escape, which would take them about forty feet from the blast. It was the biggest tree she could find and it was the farthest away she dared to shoot at with only fifty feet of wire. She was already securing the other end when Ward got Simmons ready for the ride down, explaining the process to her quickly so he wouldn't hit her going down. "Now!"

Her bark had him pushing Simmons off the edge, going after her five seconds later. Katya glanced back at the door as it burst open to show a few HYDRA agents who hadn't given up right as she clipped her own handhold to the wire and jumped off the building. They had just started running toward her, waving their guns, when the building started to explode, big balls of fire shooting out of window and blasting through the roof.

Katya had one glance over her shoulder before the wire broke and the force of the final explosion threw her towards the trees.

Her consciousness blinked out as she hit something hard and bounced off, black coating her vision. It felt like hours, but was only seconds before she was sitting up hard and staring at the flaming remains of the building in front of her. Twisting painfully, she was able to see that Ward and Simmons were in the trees, carefully getting up, while the pain started to assault her, pulling the breath from her lungs in a sharp gasp.

And that was when the world darkened for good.

Katya could hear people around her yelling as she came to. They were calling out to one another, yelling her name, screaming about injuries and protocol and lost artifacts. Her mind muddled the mess into something ineligible, but she was slowly taking inventory of her injuries as she woke up, wiggling her fingers and toes to find that the motions were borderline excruciating. Still, she forced her eyes open, the ringing in her ears lessening as she blinked, blurry trees meeting her gaze.

Instantly she realized she was on her back and she figured she could only have been out for minutes, choosing to slowly roll her head to the side, giving herself the luxury of time to figure out just how badly she'd been hurt. Her neck was sore, but not terrible and she managed to push herself up on an elbow to find SHIELD agents all over the place, Ward and Simmons fighting their way out of some bushes, and Clint yelling her name. The agents were about twenty feet to her left and she was obscured by bushes and a few trees. The thought crossed her mind that it would be the perfect escape. They would assume she died and she'd be free for real. Not just enslaved to another agency. But she was smarter than that. She knew SHIELD was supposed to be a legitimate place to be. If they were rebuilding based on their original ideals, she could get behind that.

She still didn't call out, not until she tried to push to a sitting position and pain slammed through her, sending her into a coughing fit worthy of an Oscar.

That got Clint's attention and he was dropping to his knees beside her in no time, hovering uselessly while she coughed up a concerning amount of blood. Over the ringing in her ears, she heard him call for an ambulance and a med team, but she couldn't fight it, instead fighting for each breath.

"Is she alright?" Ward and Simmons appeared and Simmons started working, making Katya wonder if she was a doctor or something.

"Punctured lung. At least three ribs are broken, I told you I saw her hit that tree. There's a wound here from… Is that an arrow wound?" Katya cracked her eyes open in time to see Simmons shoot Clint a reproving look before tears stung her eyes from the pain of coughing, forcing her to close them or let the tears fall. "It's opened and is bleeding profusely. The suture marks on her arm ripped and are bleeding as well, though the bones are still in place, if I'm feeling this right. She got lucky with that. We're going to need oxygen and…"

Katya stopped listening as people swarmed her, sending her into a panic. She reached for a weapon only to have warm, strong hands wrap around her wrists, holding her down. Clint's face took the place of any doctors and he was talking, a low hum that was incredibly relaxing. Until she realized that they'd managed to get an IV in her without her noticing and they were probably pumping drugs into her system as he spoke.

She focused on reading his lips as the buzzing in her ears got louder, cocking her head a little to see him better.

'You're going to be just fine. You did great today and we owe you. Even Tasha wants to thank you for your help. We'll get you stitched back up and you'll be good as new. You just gotta let the docs do their jobs.' He was murmuring nothing that would help her calm down, but she focused on it, letting it lull her into a false sense of security before they knocked her out.


	5. Chapter 5

**This one is a little longer than the rest. The infamous Tony Stark is in it and you meet a few of the other main characters in the MCU. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!**

She woke up again, this time in a room. The bed was more comfortable than any she'd ever been on and she was immediately suspicious as to what had happened for her to end up in it. Had she died? It seemed like a possibility until she realized that she was hooked up to an IV, both hands handcuffed to a makeshift bedframe… Twice. And the IV was taped onto her hand with duct tape, which she found odd and slightly uncomfortable considering she didn't like IV's in the first place.

Her ribs hurt with each breath, but not as bad as she had predicted and she found that she could hear the beeping of the machines around her. Deciding to test to see if someone was watching her monitors, she took several deep, soothing breaths, before stopping breathing completely, holding her breath for as long as possible.

After minute two the oxygen monitor started screeching to life. She waited another minute, letting it go off continually, until the door to her room burst open and three different people barged in, two of whom she recognized. Letting out the breath she was holding, she started breathing normally again, feeling accomplished after getting their attention, even if she wasn't really comfortable with the way Clint was glaring at her like she'd just ruined his life.

"That's not funny. Last time one of your monitors went off, you ripped out your IV, tore off your heart monitor…" Well that explained the duct tape…

Clint was interrupted by a man with a goatee who seemed to think he was important. Katya recognized him immediately.

"And broke my EKG machine. Do you have any idea the modifications I made to that thing? It'll take me at least a week to repair it." Tony Stark informed her critically, rolling his eyes like a diva.

"I was awake before?" She asked, cocking her head in thought. There were times when the trainers claimed she'd done things she had no memory of, but she'd thought they just wanted to punish her. She'd never given it much thought as to if it was possible that she'd actually done what they claimed she did.

"It probably has to do with the treatments." The Widow walked into the room, decidedly not Widow like. She was wearing yoga pants and a tight tank top that stopped just above the waistband of her pants. The yoga pants were grey and looked butter soft while the tank top was olive green, setting off her eyes and her hair, which was hanging down around her shoulders in tight coils.

"What treatments?" Simmons asked as she moved to check the monitor and adjust a few things on the different screens.

"Mandatory memory wipes. They blank out your memories of certain times in your life and sometimes they bleed over. It should end in a few months if we keep her off them." The Widow, who was acting more and more like Natasha as known by Clint Barton, informed Simmons, who looked horrified by the idea of violating someone in such a way.

"Something's are better left forgotten." Katya informed her clinically, thinking of all the lives she had taken that she didn't remember. It didn't lessen her guilt, but it kept her from drowning in it. At least their treatments were good for something other than making the perfect, docile soldiers. If she had been anyone else, she wouldn't have been able to resist the treatments as well, would have been at their disposal, but something they had done to her made her more resistant to their favorite torture method. It had been a blessing and a curse.

"I agree." The Widow, Natasha, whoever she was, nodded, her eyes holding the pain that Katya was trying to smother inside. She understood. Probably better than anyone else.

"Did everyone make it out alright?" Katya changed the topic, curious about the other man that had been with them. Ward. And the two women.

"Agent Ward is in the room next to yours and Agent Carter is across the hall. She took a few hits and is down for the count. Agent May is upstairs, speaking with our new Director, they're trying to think of a new safe headquarters since the Playground was compromised." Clint informed her, seeming unconcerned with the fact that he was giving her information on the people in his agency when she had done nothing to earn their trust.

"Oh." Katya left it at that, letting Simmons fuss for a bit before the door to her room was kicked open and a young man wheeled in in a wheel chair, a big grin on his face.

"Simmons! You can't just leave me behind like that! I wanted to take a look at our patient as well!" He had a hearty Scottish accent, though some of his words were slightly slurred. Neither of the two looked much older than her, but they had to be to be agents. Most agents of SHIELD, she had learned, were late twenties, early thirties. Men and women in their prime. These two were like children running around with grownups, not that she could talk. "You're blood is so fascinating, Katya. You wouldn't believe the molecular structure! I've never seen anything like it!"

Katya actually found the kid kind of endearing, until he mentioned her blood, which had her tensing. She didn't know what the Room had done to her, but she wasn't sure she was ready to know either. She was aware that she wasn't normal, but was she ready to be scientifically labelled as a freak?

"Fitz, I told you to stay in the lab." Simmons snapped at the kid, her worried hiss making Katya suddenly consider the fact that maybe the girl thought she might hurt her friend. Which she wasn't going to do because she actually kind of liked his honesty, despite the blood thing.

"It was either stay in the lab and watch all of Ward's monitors beep in unison or come up here and warn you that he's trying to break out of the med lab. Really, I was just trying to be helpful." Simmons gasped and bolted out of the room like someone lit a fire under her while Fitz rolled over with a welcoming grin on his face. "My name is Leo Fitz. It's nice to meet you, Katya."

"And you as well." She could be polite when the situation called for it and even managed not to let her eyes glaze over as the man named Fitz went off on a tangent about how her blood was just so fascinating. She let him talk, the slurring slowly clearing up the longer he talked. He had a patch of hair on his head that was shorter than the rest and she figured it was a brain injury that landed him in the chair, as well as what was contributing to the speech issues. He seemed to be alright with his life and Katya found nothing to complain about when it came to the kid. He was entertaining as he did absent minded whirls and wheelies while talking, like it helped him think or something.

Tony Stark was leaning against the wall, occasionally giving the man suggestions or opinions when he lulled and Clint had moved farther into the room, sneaking around the boys talking shop to make his way to Katya, who braced herself for the inevitable lecture. She had gone off base and had ignored their orders, she had to be in some kind of trouble. Especially the fact that she took out about half their SHIELD agents on her way out…

"How are you feeling?" Clint asked instead, which was odd. She contemplated this while watching him, looking for any signs of violence or anger. He just looked curious and concerned, like always, but she wasn't quite so confident that he wasn't angry at her, so she chose her answer carefully, hoping it was right.

"I've been worse." That got his eyes on her and not in a good way. In fact, he looked vaguely horrified by the possibilities while Katya looked on in confusion. Most people just laughed it off when she said things like that or knew anyway and didn't find it surprising. Didn't he know what the Widow had gone through in her time in the Red Room? Had they never talked about it?

"But you've been better as well." Natasha had blended into the background and now stepped forward, obviously finding her niche in their conversation. A short shrug that ran pain through Katya's entire body seemed to answer her assumption, because she frowned and looked Katya over like she might break apart at any moment, which wasn't likely. Katya knew her limits and she had lived through worse than what their little explosion had inflicted.

"They had to put the cast back on your wrist to make sure that it's still alright. There's a new one on your ankle as well, a real cast. You aren't allowed out of that one for a week at least. The one on your wrist longer." Clint informed her, his tone serious and brooking no argument. She wondered how her healing factor would play into that but figured she'd let him think he could boss her around for a little bit, just to make him feel a little better.

"The base of operations is now located in Stark Tower, which he insists is now Avengers Tower, for the time being. There's no other safe place to put all of us and Stark has the room. Not only that, but JARVIS, his AI, cross references everyone who walks through those doors. We're the safest we can be while in his care." Natasha explained, making Katya wonder why she wasn't conversing with the Widow. There were obviously two distinctly different sides to the woman. The stone cold killer and the regular woman. And it was a little odd to talk to Natasha, the one Clint was so taken with.

"And this AI let me in?" Katya asked, confused. If it was as good as Natasha said it was, there should have been no way for her to get through those gilded doors. She wasn't a good person and it was obvious she didn't belong among the heroes, no matter what day they caught her on.

"You've become an asset according to SHIELD personnel files. You helped us fight against the HYDRA agents that infiltrated our systems yet again and you saved two of our agents. That's enough to get you through the doors." Clint answered, oddly serious. Katya knew he could be serious, had seen it a dozen times while watching him, but it was odd seeing him be serious with her, when they weren't fighting to the death.

"I've been trying to tell them not to hand out your SHIELD lunch card just yet, but they seem to think that you're going to be a good agent. No one listens to me, though." Stark complained, taking a drink of a dark amber liquid that looked suspiciously like Scotch.

"What makes you think I want to pledge myself to another agency that will try to control me?" Katya asked, practically snapping at Stark just because of the tone of voice he chose to use. The one that indicated that she was somehow less than them because of the things she'd gone through, the way she'd grown up.

"Well, that's completely up to you. But, I'd suggest thinking about it. Not all of SHIELD employees go into the field. Some do the desk work, others coordinate missions, we could find a place for you, I'm sure. After all, I am the director." A man in a spiffy suit walked in, his stride confident, but not in the misogynistic way Stark's was. He was just a man who was confident in his abilities.

"Katya Barnes, meet Director Coulson. The new director of SHIELD." Natasha announced, a small smile on her face. Katya knew that they had thought Coulson dead, they had talked about him a few times while she'd had them bugged. It seemed they took it as a personal failing that resulted in his death, something to do with the Battle of New York. She wasn't quite sure the circumstances, but she had heard them talk about him and knew he was supposed to be a good man.

"You have no proof of my loyalty." She reminded him callously, waiting for the other hand to drop.

"Well, I can take care of that. I had these brought up for you. They're completely voluntary of course, but I think you'll take this option. They're SHIELD tracking bracelets. GPS enabled and it will lock you out of any unapproved sites on the internet if you go on. They're to make sure our more at risk agents don't try to run out or sell us out. If you decide to put these on, I guarantee a job for you within our agency. You've already proven that you're combat trained and field ready, but the choice is up to you about where you want to go. You could be a Specialist, like Clint and Natasha, or you could be in the science division like Fitzsimmons. There's also the chance of being a handler, which was my job when I first started." He smiled fondly at some memory as did Clint and Natasha, which made Katya curious as to what happened while he 'handled' them.

She knew he was offering her help she couldn't get anywhere else, even if he hadn't gotten to that part yet. And she was sure that the other option wasn't as suitable, but she waited patiently for him to finish explaining, if only to make sure her options were as limited as she assumed.

"You'll receive a paycheck that you'll be allowed to use on whatever you wish, you'll receive a bunk, all the perks of being a SHIELD agent. However, if you don't choose that option, option B is being released into the world, on your own, with no money and just a name. We'll get you a passport and a driver's license as well as some cash, but that's it. You'll still be in the bracelets so we can make sure you aren't up to anything nefarious, but you'll be literally free. SHIELD's protection, however, will not follow you." He stared at her heavily at this announcement and she understood.

If she chose the real freedom, they wouldn't back her up if the Rooms came after her. She'd really be on her own in a world out to get her. They might think she was dead, but they'd want proof. As in a body. And she couldn't give that. At least if she stayed with SHIELD, they had some means at her disposal to keep her safe.

"The third option, I don't recommend. It involves a tiny cell and being locked away forever." It was clean cut and the most honest thing anyone had said to her all day. She appreciated it.

"Do I have time to think?" She asked, which was just to test their limits. See how much she'd get away with.

"Two minutes." Unyielding was more like it. Thinking quickly, she tried to decide what she wanted to do, who she wanted to be. Who was Katya Barnes? Who was she as a person, what would she do? Katya didn't know. She had no pieces of herself that she could latch onto, so she dug deep and made a final decision.

"I don't want to give up my field work just yet. I have red to wipe out. But I want to train to be a handler." She finally informed the Director, who lit up at her announcement and the light Russian accent that lilted her words.

"Alright. Let me help you get this on." She knew he only spoke to warn her of his approach, but she still appreciated it, letting him clasp the little metal bracelet around her left wrist. "When your cast comes off, the other one goes on. For now, I'll hold onto it."

She inspected the little metal device and figured she could get it off easily enough if she put her mind to it. She wouldn't, because she was curious about the people around her and she really did have nowhere else to go, but she would have left if she didn't think that they really would keep to their word, something that was rare in the world. They seemed like good people, when they cared for someone. They were the most deadly people in the world, but also the most loyal. She could understand something like that.

"Welcome to SHIELD, Katya Barnes." The Director spoke and she nodded slightly to him, not surprised when he turned and left after that. He was obviously an important man, he would be busy with other things.

Clint unlocked her handcuffs, both sets, moving the bed so it would sit up and she could run a finger over the metal, which was smooth with small indentations in it. She didn't move to get up, simply sitting there and contemplating the decision she'd just made. One she knew would change her life. For better or worse, she didn't know yet, but she figured she was about to find out.

"If you promise not to destroy any more of my toys, we can start unhooking you." Stark informed her. She just looked at him blankly, unsure what he wanted her to say.

Instead, he just started working, seeming to have a superior knowledge of the machines around her. She watched him go, making sure he was telling the truth and not trying to drug her or something. She could never be too careful when it came to things like that.

"Alright, you're free. What are you going to do with this new freedom?" Stark asked sarcastically, having cut off the duct tape and pulled the IV out. She had a band aid on her hand and that was that.

Sitting up, she found that she felt alright. Not good, not great, but not terrible either.

"Come on, we'll show you your room and get you settled, then we can really start helping you train!" Clint was more excited about her staying with them than anyone else in the room. In fact, he was the only one who seemed even a tiny bit excited to have her in the Tower. Everyone else seemed to be resolved, almost resigned that they had to keep her while Clint was more than happy to reach out and offer a hand to help her up. "There's a wheel chair considering you have the cast on your ankle, but don't worry, I'm a great driver."

"He's not driving you anywhere." Natasha spoke up, rolling her eyes at the man she was so close to. Katya watched them as Clint whined a bit about the new arrangement, when Simmons came back in with a wheel chair and a grim smile.

"Here you go, dear. You should be stable now, but if you feel any different, there's a call button in your room that you can press at any time. Someone will be monitoring the computers the rest of the day and JARVIS will inform us if we're away." The scientist was pale, almost shaking, and Katya wondered what the man named Ward had done to make her that way. He had seemed like a smart man when she'd worked with him, but she hadn't seen him in a normal setting. At least he hadn't shot her in the back…

"Thank you." The words were foreign on her tongue because, for the first time in her life, she meant them. Not many people deserved her thanks and even fewer of those heard it from her, which made Simmons a special woman.

"It's no problem at all." The other woman smiled and moved out of the room, eyeing Tony like he might attack. He just rolled his eyes and left after her, spouting different medical terms at random. Fitz followed them as well, trying to get Stark's attention while Katya turned to the two agents trying to get her up, wondering why they were offering to help her.

She couldn't remember another time in her life when she'd been offered help so often.

"You can take our help or you can leave it. It's up to you." Natasha sounded surprisingly gentle, no matter how harsh her words were. Clint frowned in her direction as Katya took her up on the offer, pushing off the bed in her own power and hopping to the chair. She wasn't worried about her injuries, they didn't hurt that bad, and she was more than careful of the various instruments that Stark had referred to as his babies earlier. She didn't want to be on his bad side, even if she doubted he'd be able to do much damage to her in a fight.

There were no words as Natasha took the handles of the wheel chair and started pushing her. Clint made no comment but an annoyed sigh and Katya figured it best to ignore their arguing in favor of memorizing the route they were taking in case she ever needed it again.

Two lefts, one right, up ten floors on the elevator, which needed a voice activation from the AI called JARVIS, before it opened into a living room.

"This is our floor in the Tower. Stark made it for us after the events of New York and we've been staying here on and off since SHIELD fell." Clint informed her clinically, which she found odd. The room was a light beige, not something she'd expect from the two of them. There was one couch and two love seats arranged in front of a big, flat screen TV all in a dark brown color. They were suede, if she was correct in guessing. She could see a big, black coffee table with a glass middle in between the seating and there was a kitchen area to their right, separated by a long bar counter.

Cherry wood stools stood at the counter, two of them, and behind the counter's dark marble finish was a master kitchen made of dark wood and stainless steel. She wondered if they actually cooked there briefly before she was being moved, pushed towards the wall by the TV, which had a door on each side of the monstrosity.

"There are only two bedrooms, Clint and I are in that one if you need us in the night. We'll put you in here for now, it will function well. I believe Pepper made some arrangements as for the decorating of it, but I'm not sure what she's done." Natasha spoke while Katya ogled the floor to ceiling window that ran around one side of the building. They had a beautiful view and there were shades to pull over if they didn't want to be seen or whatever, but it was high up. Like, the highest up.

"Is this the top floor?" She asked before she could stop herself, wondering if they'd be angry.

"The only floor higher is Tony's suite. Isn't it great?" Unsure if that was a rhetorical question, Katya kept quiet, letting them maneuver her through the door of the bedroom.

Staring at the interior, she was surprised to find that it was exceedingly bare.

There was a California king sized bed on the left, pushed up against the wall, the bedspread a pale purple with dark purple sheets. The floor was the same wood that the rest of the floor seemed to have and there was a dresser on the opposite wall of the bed, in the middle of the wall, where there were two more doors, one on either side of the dresser. The lighting came from a generic lighting system on the ceiling and there was a curtain directly opposite them, which Clint moved to open.

That gave her a view of the city.

"That's glass too?" She asked, surprised. She had little knowledge of their Tower, but had assumed only one wall was glass.

"It's actually an invention of Tony's, it functions as a window or, if you play with the remote a bit, a TV or a computer. It's pretty cool once you get the hang of it. Once you get better, I'll show you how to change the view. New York gets kind of boring to watch this high up." He explained. She just nodded slightly, surprised at how easily this Pepper had read her tastes. As in, she didn't have any.

"There are some clothes in the dresser, but once you get the cast off your foot, we'll go shopping for clothes and some things to keep you entertained while you're here. We also need to get you set up with a handler through SHIELD so you can go on missions and the like, but that will come after the field tests and aptitude tests. They're actually surprisingly easy, so don't worry about them too much." Natasha offered with a wan smile.

"Easy? I failed the aptitude test three times!" Clint whined.

"She's trained for that sort of thing, Clint." Natasha rolled her eyes at him and moved so Katya could see her. "I'm sure you're tired, so you can either lay down for a while, or there's some food in the kitchen if you're hungry?"

She could see the tactic easily, had used it on scared recruits in the Rooms before. She was trying to get her comfortable, make her think she had a choice. They just didn't realize that there was no choice in the world. If there was a choice, she would have been trained to use it.

"I'll lay down for a while." She informed them, pushing up from the chair. She didn't hesitate or wobble as she hopped the two steps to the bed and sat down, watching the two assassins before her as they exchanged an unreadable look.

"Alright. You rest."


	6. Chapter 6

**This one is very short, it's more of a introspective thing. Katya looking at herself as a person sort of thing. Let me know what you think!**

Katya went through the list of things she knew about herself, the ones she knew weren't tampered memories or implanted awareness, the things that made her a real person, not just a doll to be toyed with when others felt like it. She needed to know them to make a person out of them and she needed a person to feel as though this time wasn't a lie. That she could actually be free, so she made a mental list of the things she did and was.

#1: Katya liked the cold.

She didn't just like the cold, she thrived there. She liked warm blankets and sweatshirts, things that served well to cover her scars, yes, but she also enjoyed them. She liked pulling a hat over her ears right before the frost would bite them and she liked laying in the snow on a cold day where she could just be.

#2: Katya enjoyed dancing.

She wasn't sure if it was uniquely her or an acquired like that she'd finally just established after so long of being forced to move in certain ways, but she did like to dance. Ballet had never felt right, too restricting, too form fitting, but she enjoyed the movement and the music and had learned long ago to keep this a secret, lest it be taken away from her. It was a pastime that was allowed simply because it helped with reflex and flexibility, not because they thought she enjoyed it.

#3: Katya was smart.

She wasn't sure how smart, had never had it tested, but she knew it simply because it was one of the few praises rained down on her in the Room. They had made sure she knew how to move, how to talk, how to be a different person when necessary, and they made sure she knew she was smart. Smarter than her enemies. And now, she wondered, smarter than them?

#4: Katya didn't like tea.

It was something that had made her stand out in the narrow fields of the Room, when everyone was forced to do the same things and eat the same and train the same, back when she had little memories, but knew it was the beginning. Every other little girl in the Room had enjoyed their daily tea, the etiquette of their training, while Katya had bulked and sputtered the first day. After that, there was no sputtering, no bulking, no hesitation. The marks that were seared into her back were a testament to that.

There wasn't much she knew about herself. Those were the main things she knew were truly Katya. Like the fact that her hair was pale blonde when it wasn't dyed a different color and her eyes were a pale blue, making her seem washed out. She was five foot one inch tall and weighed one hundred and ten pounds. Her feet were a size six but she'd worn six and a half on occasion. She knew the basic statistics about herself, that she was nineteen years old or at least around there and that she was thrown into the Room at age four. Or so she'd been told.

That was all she really knew about the real Katya. She had four concrete truths and the rest could be made up. It was like learning an alias, only there were no set rules, no guidelines, no file to tell her what to say, which accent to use, how to walk. They didn't even give her a place to pretend she was from. She had nothing to her name but the four truths she'd come up with.

She had little to no memories of the missions she'd been on, couldn't remember her preferences or her thoughts on things she had seen in the outside world. The things she remembered from chasing the Hawk, she didn't trust. They took so much from her that she didn't know what to think of the things they'd left. Were they implanted memories? Were they her own or had they taken them from someone else? She'd never know.

It was like being unmade, stripped bare for the world to see. A painful rebirth in a way. She was unsure how to respond, what to do, what to say. She just wanted to leave, but they had her in a room, with a bed, healing. They fed her three square meals, all of it healthy food that sent a wave of recognition through her even if she was sure she'd never seen it before in her life. Still, she ate what was given and had yet to be able to make her own food choices, though that could be because she had only been there for a little over a day.

In that day, she'd had time to consider herself and the consequences of her actions, which could be terrifying if she was being completely honest. She wasn't usually, but she couldn't say that she hadn't considered the fact that the Room and quite possibly HYDRA were after her a concerning concept.

Sitting back on her bed, she contemplated who she wanted to be, wondering if she could build a new self around the scant amount of things she knew about herself.


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm really sorry I forgot to update, so here's the next chapter, which is longer than the last. That's the other reason I'm posting two, the last one was so short. It's also some fluff between Clint and Natasha, which is always fun to write. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! No one has reviewed so far and I feel like no one reads my little side notes… Anyway, enjoy!**

It was a shock when Katya walked out of her room for the first time, Simmons having taken off her cast after two days, exchanging it for a wrap. The rumbling in her stomach had informed her that she was late on a meal, which was odd. Natasha or Clint had brought in her meals for the last two days, letting her eat in solitude and rarely trying to make small talk. Clint was the worst at it. He fumbled for a topic, always wanting to talk to her, but never sure what to say. Natasha was easier, never pushing or attempting anymore conversation than necessary. Katya knew where she stood with the woman.

So when she walked out of her room into the middle of a Nerf war, she wasn't quite ready for the shock of seeing Natasha laughing as she dodged an array of Nerf bullets, her own little guns in her hands while Clint had a Nerf bow and arrow set in his, attempting to catch the woman as she jumped off the couch and landed gracefully on the coffee table, which was apparently strong enough to hold her.

Neither had noticed her yet and she kept it that way, standing stationary in her doorway as Clint ducked and rolled to hide behind the other couch, peeking over the edge right as Natasha took her shot. He ducked down again, collecting a few stray Nerf arrows, before reloading.

Then he was up and running, shooting off arrows on the fly as he bolted towards the kitchen, Natasha doing a flip off of the table to land in a crouch ducked low. She slid to the left, hiding behind the arm of a sofa with a laugh when Clint barely missed his shot, the arrow whizzing over her head and clipping a few loose strands of her red hair.

Katya had never seen Natasha laugh before, she'd never had a reason to do so in her presence, but she found that it softened her face into something friendlier, more open, than the mask she usually wore. She'd seen Natasha's smile from afar while watching Clint when he was just her mission and she was just supposed to be his executioner, but she had yet to see it up close and she had to admit that the older woman was beautiful in a way Katya would never be.

That impression of beauty lasted until Natasha's smile grew into a deranged grin and she jumped up from behind the couch, balancing on the arm and took two shots, which Clint didn't have time to dodge. They hit him, one in the chest, and one in the middle of the forehead, to which he groaned and let out a few extraordinary curse words before falling back onto the floor, playing dead.

That was when Natasha's eyes strayed to Katya.

"Katya. You're up." Her voice lost the enthusiastic edge her eyes had held not a moment earlier, taking on a more businesslike tone. Her surprise was masked easily, but Katya knew it was there, the surprise that they hadn't noticed her, hadn't realized she was watching. Now, seeing that emotionless mask slip into place, she realized she should have just gone back into her room and stayed until they got her. She'd witnessed something that was wholly theirs, a moment in time that was as intimate as their moments got. This wasn't her home and she shouldn't have been spying, no matter that she hadn't meant to infringe.

"Katya!" Clint did nothing to hide his current good mood, instead just popping up from behind the counter and grinning at her like a golden retriever. She had to keep herself from letting out a small smile herself, considering he was the one who was nicest to her. "What are you doing out and about?"

She wasn't quite sure how to answer. She'd never had to ask for food before, her handlers fed her when it was time and, if they didn't, she didn't eat. She wasn't quite sure why she assumed it was different with these two and had to fight the urge to go back into the room they called hers and hide again, until they remembered it was meal time.

"She's probably hungry. It's already seven." Natasha observed, setting her Nerf weaponry down and starting toward the kitchen. Clint set his Nerf bow on the counter and glanced at the clock, seeming surprised.

"Well, what would you like to eat?" He asked, turning towards the refrigerator. Katya snuck closer, eyeing the things. She'd seen them before, but never one quite that size. It was huge, with double doors on top and a drawer on the bottom. She wasn't sure what the drawer was for, but she was curious to find out. "Looks like we have eggs, left over pizza, left over Chinese, left over Thai food, something that resembles a tuna sandwich, or was at one point, an onion, three potatoes, a carton of milk, and a block of cheese. I don't know what we can make with that."

Katya didn't know either. Cooking had never been one of her specialties and they'd eliminated it from her skillset on the last wipe, if she was remembering right. She couldn't remember anything but the absolute basics. Well, the absolute basics and how to make chocolate chip cookies, but that was simply because her handler liked her cookies the best. And those ingredients wouldn't help her make anything she knew how to cook.

"Check the pantry." Clint called over his shoulder at her while Natasha pulled out the drawer on the bottom of the fridge. Instead of staying around to figure out what it was, Katya went over to the pantry and opened the door, finding a whole stock of dried goods. There were soups and crackers and cans of everything imaginable. She couldn't see how they couldn't find something to make out of the contents of the pantry, but she still just stared, not sure what to suggest. She had no memory of what foods she liked and there was little she could say without worrying about consequences.

"How about macaroni and cheese? I can make that." Natasha offered, making Katya take a step back from the pantry when her voice came from around her shoulder. Natasha stepped forward and grabbed two boxes marked Kraft before heading back to the kitchen.

Assuming that was all she needed, Katya closed the door and started over to the kitchen as well, standing awkwardly by the counter as Natasha set to work, proving once again that she was superior to Katya as she moved around the kitchen like a seasoned pro, not hesitating as she pulled out a pot and filled it with water, deftly starting the stove up.

"You can sit down, Katya. I don't bite." Clint offered as he walked around her, motioning to the stools. There were only two of them and she knew that with the easy way Clint dropped into the far one that the one he wanted her to sit in belonged to Natasha. She was understandably wary about sitting in it, but decided to risk it, considering Natasha hadn't said anything when Clint offered it up to her.

It was a comfort to sit down as the throbbing in her ankle intensified from the relief, making her wish she had some ice. Her trainers always made sure wounds were fairly well taken care of when they were received in the field, though the ones she got as punishment were a different story. That included icing them and taking pain killers when necessary. She wished she had both at the moment, when a breath in brought on a small bout of coughing that had a lot to do with the fact that one of her broken ribs had nicked her right lung.

"Are you alright?" Clint asked, his eyebrows scrunching in concern. Katya just nodded, holding in another bout of coughing in hopes that he'd forget her moment of weakness.

Turning her head to watch Natasha, she attempted to understand the woman's movements, memorizing what she was doing even as Clint chattered about his Nerf weapons, how he had them in SHIELD's academy back in the day and was a holy terror, which she could totally see. It was a story about him pranking Ward that got her attention, however, mostly because she knew the name and could picture his reaction.

"I was hidden in the ceiling, right? SHIELD fortifies everything, so the inside of the ceiling is really awesome. I even had a few hide-y holes hidden up there at the time. Some basic supplies in case something went wrong, you know? Anyway, I had this new arrow to try out, the Sci Tech people sent it over. They knew even back then that I was the expert." He practically preened at his own praise, but Katya just nodded slightly for him to continue, which was all the encouragement he seemed to need. "So I decided to use it on the next poor shmuck to walk down the hall. Low and behold, it was Ward! I shot so fast he didn't have time to react. He saw it a split second before it grazed him, which was the intent all along. If the numbing agent didn't work with a graze, it would be useless in the field for normal recruits.

"I didn't really want to hurt him either, considering the last time I wounded a recruit that badly I was denied access to the shooting range for a whole month. That was plus toilet cleaning duty, by the way, which isn't fun. Especially considering I had to do male and female. But, anyway, so I grazed him and he went down like a sack of potatoes. You should have seen it! The look on his face! It was hilarious."

Katya could only imagine the look of rage on Ward's face when he realized that he'd been taken out by a graze from an arrow. He was one of those strong and silent types, the ones that want to be the best, no matter what. Obviously, with age, it had probably gotten better, but as a young kid, he'd probably been furious at the obvious disregard to his status. She was honestly surprised he hadn't dodged out of the way in time, but not everyone was raised to dodge bullets like she was.

"I was sure he was going to kill me when he woke up. Turns out that the Sci Tech people put too much of the numbing agent in and he was down for a week. When he finally woke up, I was halfway done with my punishment." Clint finished with a hearty laugh, finding the whole thing hilarious.

"He would have killed you when he woke up too if he didn't know that your punishment was scrubbing the locker room floor. With a tooth brush." Natasha turned to grin at Clint, who shot her an annoyed look.

"I'm trying to entertain her with tales of my wild youth, Tasha. You're not supposed to mention consequences." Clint argued amiably, still looking light hearted even though he had a pout on his lips. Katya found it amusing, the easy way with which they communicated. The sign of true partners.

"Whatever you say. Grab some plates, will you?" She turned back to the concoction on the stove while Clint moved and started into the kitchen area, pulling out plates and cups and eating utensils. He was quick and set it all up within the minute before grabbing some milk and a pitcher of ice tea from the fridge and then slipping into the seat beside Katya again with practiced ease, Natasha turning with a bowl in hand to set on the counter between the three of them.

"Do you like macaroni and cheese, Katya?" Clint asked. It was obviously an afterthought, but Katya just shrugged a little, carefully keeping her face from screwing up in a confused expression. The phrase sounded familiar, just like oatmeal and granola, but she didn't know why. Of course, it didn't take three guesses to figure out why she didn't know either.

"I don't know." She finally answered, considering they were waiting for her to. They stared at her for a moment before Natasha served herself a helping and silently accepted Katya's answer, which was the nicest thing she could do.

"Seriously?" Clint wasn't so kind.

"Leave it." Natasha ordered, sounding very much like the Black Widow. Katya froze at the sudden sharp sound, eyeing Natasha critically. But she didn't go into full Widow mode, so Katya didn't run for the hills, instead just sat there and watched Clint fill his plate completely full.

"Well, it's delicious and you need to try it. Here." He practically shoved the bowl at her, but her quick reflexes kept it from falling into her lap. Dishing out the same amount that Natasha had, Katya cautiously placed the bowl back onto the counter before looking at the gooey mess before her. It was cheesy noodles, she could make out that much. Whether it was going to be any good or not, well, she guessed she'd find out.

Picking up a fork, she stabbed just one of the noodles before her like it would attack her back, eyeing it speculatively before raising it to her lips. Both Natasha and Clint were watching her, though Natasha was nice enough to at least pretend she was interested in the food. Clint was openly staring, barely breathing as he waited for her to try the dish he seemed to love.

Cautiously, she took the bite, surprised as an explosion of cheesy goodness met her taste buds. Quickly taking another bite to ensure it wasn't just a fluke, she found that the taste wasn't as disgusting as she had originally assumed. In fact, it was delicious. And familiar in a way that tickled at the memories that were beyond her reach, erased, but not fully. It was an odd feeling and she fought not to make a face at the uncomfortable nature of it as she continued to eat quickly and efficiently, looking up to find that both assassins were watching her openly now as she got down to an almost empty plate in the space of two minutes.

"What?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry I'm late! To make it up to you, here's Cap! Let me know what you think!**

"Katya, this is Captain America, also known as Steve Rogers. I work with him on occasion." Natasha introduced of the man who had walked into their apartment only moments before, startling Katya into almost shooting him with one of the guns Natasha had hidden around the place. She hadn't been allowed access to her own weapons yet, but she could easily spot some of the ones hidden around the apartment and had almost used one when he'd walked in, unannounced. It only registered when he'd held up his hands in surrender and Natasha had called to her who he really was.

"It's nice to meet you, ma'am." The Captain smiled slightly, inclining his head in greeting. He was obviously surprised by her presence, but he had yet to say a word against her. If she hadn't known him for who he was, she might have been inclined to believe he would complain about her later, but she had observed him with Natasha and Clint over the last year and he wasn't a threat to her. He was only a threat if she was and she was being careful not to become a threat to him.

"It's nice to meet you too." Katya responded automatically, her mouth remembering the manners drilled into her for undercover work before her brain connected the inconsistency with the characteristics she had been showing. Mostly, she had been quiet around the SHIELD employees, even the ones she lived with. It worked well for her purposes.

"I hear you helped with the HYDRA invasion at the Playground. Good agents seem hard to come by." He offered, seeming content to start a conversation centered on her.

"I don't quite consider myself an agent." She answered honestly, feeling two sets of eyes on her back.

"That's a shame. I hear you'd make a damn fine agent." He answered easily. It wasn't rehearsed, it wasn't forced, he seemed to really think that. And, for a moment, she believed him. The Captain rarely lied and only when he had no choice. She found that an admirable quality, though she'd never be able to attain that kind of ambiguity. She had a cover to uphold, no matter if she was just 'being herself'. No one could know about her past, not the full extent of it, and she was happy to let them believe that it wasn't as bad as it was, that she was just a screwed up kid who killed people for a living. Explaining it all was too painful and drawn out to do every ten seconds.

"I'm glad you think so." She answered just as easily. And she really was. He was one of the few people at SHIELD that she looked up to. He was kind, considerate, and an all-around nice guy. He never hurt people senselessly and was always thinking of ways to lessen the innocent bystanders that had to die. If he was the new face of SHIELD, she might be able to get behind that.

"I actually came to see if Natasha and Clint wanted to go out to lunch. Would you like to go too?" He was so straightforward that it was disarming and Katya found herself freezing at the invitation. No one had invited her to do anything since she'd began her stay at SHIELD and she'd been in Clint and Natasha's care for three days. They had left her to herself, though she did come out when they called out meal times. Most of their meals consisted of canned and frozen goods, but it sufficed for the time being. Until training came about.

"We can pick up a few things for you after lunch if you come with." Natasha offered, which caught Katya's attention. She had said something about going to pick up some clothing, considering what Katya was wearing at the moment wouldn't suffice for a normal person.

She was simply dressed in a pair of black yoga pants with a white band around the top and a white tank top with a pink zipper hoody half zipped over it. Her pale blonde curls were pulled back in a short ponytail, the color almost white in the harsh lighting of Avengers Tower. She had on no makeup, having found none in the bathroom and figuring she had no need. Her feet were bare and she wore only the necklace no one had bothered to take off of her, which was shaped in a star. She never took it off and the chain was damn near indestructible, so she wasn't surprised it was still around her neck. It was the only jewelry she had on, though she had her ears pierced all the way up through the cartilage on both sides. It helped her covers to have piercings like that. Not to mention the belly button ring that was probably on the verge of closing up. She missed the custom jewels the Room had given her in a weird way. One of the only things she remembered fondly about the Room was getting dressed up for a mission.

She was nothing like the woman they used on a regular basis. There was no dye in her hair, no contacts on her light blue eyes, she was just herself, even her barcode on display.

It would be nice to get some clothing, though. Some that really fit. Her tank top was a bit too tight and the sweatshirt a bit too big. The pants were tight in the thighs and loose on the waist and she was concerned about having to find shoes that would fit her small feet if they did indeed go out. Still, she found that it was a nice alternative to staying in the apartment for another day. She wasn't made to sit still and wait. She was made for action.

"Um, alright." Her stumbling brought out the accent she had taken to denying, letting that small bit of herself peek through. The Captain grinned at her suddenly and it made him look years younger.

"It's Natasha's turn to pick, so I hope you like fancy dishes." He offered, not mentioning her slip.

"Oh, let it go, Steve. I only made you pay once. Katya, I have a pair of flip flops you can wear for the time being, until we can get you some shoes that fit." Natasha motioned to the mat by the elevator door that held some of their shoes, the ones that Natasha didn't have stored neatly in her closet.

Katya hadn't been in their room, but she had seen the rooms Natasha had lived in before. The floor of the closets were always covered in designer label shoes, arranged by style, designer, and color. She'd been meticulous and Katya couldn't imagine her being any less now. The only shoes that they left on the mat were the ones that they wore for work. Katya wasn't sure why there was a pair of flip flops there, she'd never seen Natasha wear them, but she obediently slipped them on, waiting for Natasha and Clint to slip into their own shoes.

"It was three times and you're a ridiculously expensive partner to have. I have no idea how Clint puts up with you." Cap laughed, turning towards the door. It put his back to Katya, who found it odd that the most competent soldier in the group would turn his back on her. Until she realized that he was safe anyway. Natasha and Clint wouldn't allow her to hurt him and she didn't really want to anyway. The confusion came in how he knew she wouldn't try.

"I don't know how she puts up with you. You can't even use a bow." Clint huffed, annoyance in his voice. Katya followed Cap into the elevator, turning quickly so that no one was at her back anymore. It didn't matter anyway, Natasha was shooting Clint a look that she couldn't interpret, not paying attention to Katya on the surface.

"What is this, kindergarten?" Natasha asked, pressing a button to the lowest floor. The elevator slid closed silently and then they were moving.

Enclosed spaces weren't really Katya's cup of tea, but she'd been in worse situations before. Even considering the two highly trained assassins and the super soldier who were currently stuck with her in the metal box speeding towards the bottom floor of the tower, suspended by only a few cables. She didn't exactly fear elevators, but they made her anxious in a way most things didn't when she didn't have something to occupy her mind with. She much preferred the stairs, but that wasn't an option.

"I prefer preschool. Then I get a nap." Clint answered back sarcastically.

It was going to be one of those days.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry, I know I'm kind of horrible at updating on a schedule, but I was sick and just started another class at my school, so I'll be insanely busy for the next couple months. Still, I'm updating twice to make up for it. And this one is pretty funny, if I do say so myself. Let me know what you think!**

They were in a fairly normal restaurant by Katya's standards, though she couldn't say much about it really. She remembered being in restaurants, sure, but it was always a vague glow of candlelight and a flash of waiters and waitresses, nothing overly specific. She didn't remember the details, just that she had been in a few before. This one was fairly quaint by the Room's standards, a small restaurant just down the street from the Tower that could be known as a family establishment. The Room was more of a black tie event kind of place. High profile targets rarely made appearances at such diners.

Apparently, though, Clint was an exception.

He was greeted like a family friend as soon as he walked in, though they called him Archie, which just had Katya stifling a laugh with a cough to keep everyone from realizing what a lie the name was. She was introduced as 'Archie's' niece, coming to live with him because her father was in the military and was transferred to a warzone just last week. It was a good story, explained away her light accent and everything, as if Clint had been thinking about it for weeks instead of just the last few minutes. After being introduced to a waitress named Gena, who Clint flirted mercilessly.

Natasha glared fiercely from his side, obviously not amused by his clear underestimation of her feelings, before they were left to pick out what they wanted to order, which was more concerning than Natasha's obvious distain for the Gena woman. Though that was pretty concerning when you remembered Natasha's specific skill set.

"They have great cheeseburgers here. The chicken is good too, but I'd stay away from the sea food. I'm not sure how fresh it is." Cap informed her kindly, talking to her like a normal person, which was kind of odd. It was nice too, a nice change from the tiptoeing everyone else seemed to do when she was in the room as if she was a mine just waiting to blow up.

"What are you getting, Tasha?" Clint asked, turning to his booth mate, who glanced at him evilly.

"What I always get." She snapped, glaring out at the street through the window they were seated next to so she didn't have to look at him. Katya made no indication that this was out of the ordinary, letting Clint stumble through to a conclusion that was most likely wrong.

It was obvious he didn't realize that Natasha had gotten over her original hesitancy around him and wanted a more physical relationship with the current emotional one. He didn't see how she just became… more herself while he was around. More carefree and easy going. He made her better and, in all honesty, she did the same to him. They balanced one another out and the look Cap was giving them showed Katya that he thought the same.

Katya was also privy to Clint's emotions, however, and knew that he was deeply in love with the woman next to him. He really had no clue why she was upset because he'd convinced himself that her affection towards him was some kind of Stockholm Syndrome or something, because he'd saved her from the KGB.

That was obviously bullshit, but Katya figured meddling wouldn't do any good. After all, they were grown adults and she was simply their new pet assassin until SHIELD decided what to do with her.

"What's wrong, Tash?" He only used that nickname when he was sure he was in serious shit and Katya couldn't say he was wrong from the sour look on Natasha's face. It was a welcome relief when the waitress returned with their drinks, though Natasha's anger only seemed to intensify as the waitress brushed a hand against Clint's arm as she set his drink down, her breasts practically in his face. If she had gotten any closer, she would have been in his lap

Katya had to admit that the display was embarrassing for the woman. In fact, Katya was extremely embarrassed _for _her. A woman shouldn't have to be blatantly desperate to gain interest. Class acts were still appreciated by men. She knew it from experience. She rarely dressed in overly revealing clothing to gain the attention of her marks. Usually, all she had to do was make some eye contact across the room, tilt her head a certain way, and they were hers, hook, line, and sinker.

"Are you ready to order?" She didn't take her eyes off Clint, though he looked to Natasha and the rest of the table to see if they were ready.

Deciding to go with the flow, Katya nodded along with Cap, who seemed to want their interactions to end with the waitress. Natasha simply snapped her menu shut and practically threw it at Clint, who caught it in surprise, still confused as to why his partner was so upset.

"Uh, I'll have the usual." Clint offered when no one went first. "Tasha?"

"I'll have the grilled house salad with the Raspberry Vinaigrette dressing. No olives." Natasha informed the waitress primly, her tone bordering on bitchy. Katya held in a smile and glanced at Cap who, thankfully, put aside his manners and ordered before her. She had a feeling he knew she had no idea what to get and was giving her another option to choose from and she was thankful for his forethought.

"I'll have the double bacon cheeseburger with extra fries." He ordered, holding out his hand for Katya's menu, which she gave him easily. Thinking through her options and what Natasha and Cap ordered, she made a split second decision.

"I'll have the grilled house salad as well, but do you have Italian dressing?" She asked, keeping her accent soft, but noticeable. The waitress finally turned her attention to Katya, smiling in a way that Katya took as a silent threat. Not that the waitress would be able to do much in a fight against her, but it was annoying that she thought she had any claim to Clint, who was so obviously out of her league.

"Of course. Is that all?" She made it sound like a veiled insult, making Katya consider snapping back with a biting answer. But she knew that it wouldn't help to make enemies, no matter that Natasha would support her fully if it came down to that. She even figured that Cap would, considering how uncomfortable he looked in the current situation. Still, she just shook her head and moved her attention to Clint and Natasha, who were both watching her too. "That'll be right up!"

Katya almost gave into the urge to slump back in relief when the waitress finally left the vicinity, her patience tested. She knew how to handle stressful situations, but she'd always had the option of just hitting whoever pissed her off if she was in a bad mood on a mission. That option wasn't on the table anymore.

"So, Katya, I was thinking that maybe it would be easier if it was just you and I when we go shopping. We can take my car and grab some dinner afterwards. What do you say?" Natasha's forced excitement let Katya know she was using her as an excuse to get back at Clint, but she was strangely okay with that logic. It was easier to pretend than to force herself to learn who she was when she couldn't remember even what restaurants she'd been to before. Besides, it would be less embarrassing to go with Natasha because she knew about the memory gaps. Intimately.

"Alright." She didn't hesitate and Clint gaped at them, obviously feeling left out.

"What? I thought I got to come! We were going to look at weapons." Clint's pout was turning into a full blown whine as he realized he suddenly got uninvited to spend time with Natasha. Katya almost laughed, barely holding in the urge to giggle in his face.

"We're shopping for clothes, not weapons. SHIELD will equip Katya with what she needs." Natasha reminded him coldly, which had him drooping even more. Katya would have felt bad for him if it wasn't all kind of his fault. She might have also slightly enjoyed watching Natasha completely shut him down, with no more than a few sentences. This was the guy that had faced her gun unflinchingly. The same man who jumped off of buildings at the drop of a hat and the same one who fought an alien army last year. And Natasha ripped him apart so easily that it was almost embarrassing.

"Oh." He was completely pouting around then, which was fine because their food was delivered anyway.

He successfully ignored all of Gena's advancements as Katya inspected the salad in front of her, his focus intent on Natasha and no one else. After a few seconds, Gena took the hint finally and huffed off, which almost pulled a smile from Natasha. It definitely pulled a smile from Cap, who gently nudged Katya in the side as the other woman stalked off and shared a grin with her. She allowed her lips to tilt in response, finding the show funny as well, even if she wasn't comfortable enough to share it publicly.

"I thought she'd never leave." He murmured just low enough for her to hear. Her lips tilted a bit more and she heard Natasha snort, which caught her attention immediately. Said woman was hiding her laughter behind a napkin, probably having read Cap's comment on his lips. Not that he minded.

"What?" Clint proceeded to glare at Cap while Katya carefully dumped some of her dressing onto her salad, pursing her lips as she studied it. Lettuce, cheese, tomatoes, olives, and a hardboiled egg. There were croutons on the side and her dressing was also on the side. She could name all the items and even had an inkling of what they tasted like individually, but she couldn't summon a memory of eating something like it ever before in her life.

Instead of focusing on that, she just mixed it a little, as Natasha was doing, and took a bite.

The Italian dressing was something she knew, the zesty taste familiar on her tongue even as she took in the flavors of everything together, blinking slowly before deciding she liked it.

With that, she dug in.


	10. Chapter 10

**Alright, so here's the second update today. This is in someone else's POV and, if you haven't figured out who he is yet, you'll find out now. Here's the man with no name:**

He watched as his Katya and the other woman, one he now recognized, walked through the mall, side by side. It was obvious that Katya wasn't comfortable, she was tense and close enough to the woman known as the Black Widow to almost touch as they walked, which was concerning. He knew that Natalia wouldn't hurt the girl he'd come searching for, but he also wanted to keep her away from anyone else, hidden. She wasn't safe so long as she was out in the open so readily.

She was one of the strongest people he knew and she was so heartbreakingly young. Even younger when he'd met her. He shouldn't have come after her, not when the entire intelligence community was searching the globe for him, but he'd never been able to stifle the urge to find her, to make sure she was safe even when the world was crumbling around him. And he had the uncanny ability to show up right before everything blew up around her, which was why he'd started his search in the first place, as soon as he'd learned that she was missing from the Post Room. As soon as he'd heard about the bounty placed on her head.

He had seen her in many different costumes, most of them less conspicuous than his own, but he had yet to see her in normal clothing for someone her age. It was a treat to see her walking around in something women of her time would wear out casually, instead of dressed in the most provocative outfits her handlers could find. It was almost a relief, if he was being completely honest. And he had been trying to be honest with himself as of late.

He was on the next floor up of the mall and it would be easy to get her attention if he wanted it. The gun at his back was there simply in case SHIELD or HYDRA or any of the other agencies figured out he was back in town, but he could get her attention with it. It was something the Winter Soldier would have done. Without hesitation or mercy. Hell, he would have taken out the woman at her side and stolen her away instead of quietly observing from a floor up, waiting for the shit to hit the fan. If he was being honest, he had seriously considered that option when he'd first seen her there.

It had taken a moment for him to register that it was the first time he'd seen her actually look like she was supposed to. Her blonde hair had always been around her shoulders and curly, but this time it was pulled away from her face in a simple pony tail, her blue eyes taking in the area around her critically. She was more confident than he'd ever seen her outside of a mission and she had her head up instead of tilted slightly down as she did while he'd known her in the Room, as she called it.

She was dressed in clean, fitting clothes that weren't either ridiculously exposing or white scrubs and she seemed relatively uninjured. The way she walked suggested a rib injury, but only slightly. To someone who didn't know her, she'd look perfectly fine.

And he realized that she was being taken care of by the same people who had tried to kill him.

Stifling the part of him that was, and always would be, the Winter Soldier, he let Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes come to the surface. Sure, he had changed since the forties, he wasn't the happy-go-lucky kid he used to be, but he knew that getting her attention in the wrong way would get him killed. He had to think through his options and be patient, something he didn't really want to do at the moment.

Patience was not a virtue for him when it came to his Katya.

Still, he set about getting to the lower floor, blending in so he could follow them inconspicuously. He knew how Natalia worked and kept out of her line of sight and out of her range of sensibilities, keeping just close enough to act if something did happen. He made sure to seem casual and walked through the crowd like a regular shopper, watching as Natalia pushed Katya into fitting room after fitting room.

It would have been tedious if he was watching anyone else, but he'd never found seeing Katya tedious or boring. Mostly because, even in captivity, she had been like a burning candle, full of life and energy. It had drawn him in like a moth to a flame and even when he had no idea who he was, even when he couldn't remember his own name or when he'd woken up in the middle of the night without any memories at all, he'd always remembered her. And it never took him long to find her either, always centering his decisions on his missions around when she was on her own missions, around what she was doing and where he'd be able to see her, to get her the message he'd delivered a thousand times in a hundred different ways.

_I remember you._

It was hours later when he finally got his chance, after they'd finished in the shoe section at yet another store, Natalia getting Katya to actually crack a smile in her presence as they walked toward the foot court, going for a meal, he assumed. He knew it would be his only chance and he picked up his pace, thinking on the fly as he worked out where they were going and how he would approach without the Black Widow recognizing him.

Grabbing a napkin from a stand nearby and snitching a pen from the pocket of a waitress he 'accidently' bumped into, he quickly scrawled out a simple message for her, knowing it would be enough because he planned on letting her see him. Not for more than a moment, but for enough time for her to recognize him. Because she remembered him just as clearly as he remembered her. Even after the brainwashing and memory wipes, she had always greeted him with the same smile, the same one that he lived to see again. The same one that was burned into his memory and was his first image he remembered of her when he awoke from his memory wipes. Hers was always the first face he saw.

The two women were chatting lightly, Katya's tension having run out of her a little bit. She was starting to tense up again, however, and he knew why. Natalia would ask her what she wanted to eat and Katya wouldn't know. She was probably fairly fresh from a memory wipe and they didn't think to leave things like that in your memory. He was lucky enough that he was starting to recover, could remember most of his life with surprising clarity. It was when he was James Buchanan Barnes that he had trouble remembering details.

But Katya wouldn't remember anything yet. It took a lot of time for the serums to wear off in that respect and she was trying to force it too much.

Deciding it was best to step in now, he moved, making his way easily through the crowds, even when he knew he was a fairly big guy. People automatically moved out of his way, which was good, because he would shove them if he had to. At least, the Winter Soldier would. Both sides of him were eager to get to Katya, to see her up close again. It had been too long in his opinion, ever since before SHIELD fell. He'd been wiped twice since he'd last seen her, but could remember the encounter like yesterday.

After all, she'd almost died.

He walked the opposite way as the two women, eyeing them until it was too obvious. Then he looked ahead, searching like he knew someone. His heart started to pound faster the closer he got, his palm starting to sweat even though he wasn't prone to letting his body respond to anything. Still, he kept up his pace and had to hold in a grin when her eyes flickered up from where they were centered on her feet, those light blue eyes finding his and the surprise on her face enough to make him want to grab her right there and take her with him. Because there was obvious joy there, even though the smile he lived for was nowhere to be seen.

He understood, though, instead nodding just slightly and brushing past her, his fingers pushing the napkin into her sweatshirt pocket, where her hand was stowed. She turned with him, pretending to let him pass as she squeezed his fingers with hers just slightly before letting go, the smile on her face as soon as her head was turned enough that Natalia wouldn't see.

He nodded, wanting to smile back, but unable to. The Winter Soldier had never smiled at her, not when she could see it. He'd been a broken man back then and she'd been his fix for a while. It was only about five years he'd known her, but she was the light in his ever present darkness. And the only one he'd refused to kill.

Turning ahead right as Natalia started to turn, he disappeared into the crowd, wanting to stay to see her, but knowing it wasn't safe anymore. Natalia would note a face that was following them if he wasn't careful and he had things to do.

Suppressing a sigh, he left the building, feeling a little bit better about himself as he did.


	11. Chapter 11

Katya could hardly wait to see what the man with no name had given to her when he'd passed by. She'd seen him and it was like coming home, which sounded ridiculously clichéd, but she had no home and he was the closest thing to it that she had ever had. Always had been from the bits she remembered of her past.

Natasha had noticed the brightening of her mood but hadn't said anything about it yet. It was obvious from the way she observed Katya that she was trying to figure out why she was so excited, but she kept her hands carefully away from the napkin in her pocket, instead eating her lunch without tasting it. It was an art form, really, to not be able to taste the food as it went into her mouth. She'd learned early on to eat what was provided when it was provided, no matter how it tasted, and it was a helpful skill to have in her arsenal.

The shopping hadn't been too bad before he had shown up anyway, what with Natasha trying her hardest to brighten the mood and act as a family would. She had been introduced as Natasha's younger cousin to a few people who had been curious. No one tried to argue the claim, even when Katya knew they looked nothing alike besides the things that the Rooms had instilled in them. They walked the same sometimes, though Natasha had lost most of her predatory walk while in public. Katya had no such background to go from and just mimicked whatever Natasha did, which probably cemented the claim that they were somehow related to one another

Natasha had been overly kind the entire time, never complaining about cost even when Katya found a particularly expensive pair of boots that she had simply stared at on her feet for two minutes before Natasha had pulled them off of her physically and bought them for her without a second glance at the price tag.

It was like she was almost trying to make a connection, something she had yet to receive from the woman. Natasha had always been standoffish and cold, almost clinical while they were together. The change was slightly staggering, but Katya went with it, assuming it was part of their cover until she ended up buying her a bed spread in one of the stores simply because Katya had reached out to feel the material and found that it was softer than she'd realized, a small smile tickling her lips. That was when she realized it was more than what she'd originally assumed, that it was Natasha's way of saying that she wanted to be friends or something along those lines.

It had brightened her mood considerably when she realized that Natasha didn't hate her like she seemed to, but seeing the man with no name had made her entire day. She felt a little bad that her enthusiasm wasn't really directed at Natasha after everything she'd done to make her feel more comfortable in her presence, but having the man around, knowing he was there if something went wrong, had Katya relaxing more than she had all day, almost slumping in her seat when she realized how tired she was, after five hours of nonstop shopping.

"We can go back home after we finish eating. I think this is a suitable punishment time for Clint." Natasha offered with a smirk, probably remembering the kicked puppy look on Clint's face when they'd left him with the Captain at the Tower. Katya broke into a small smile as well, nothing like the one she reserved for the man, but one that showed she had noticed that Clint was being left out on purpose as well. Noticed, and thought it was kind of funny.

The poor guy still probably didn't know what he'd done to deserve Natasha's wrath, but that was because he wasn't exactly privy to Natasha's feelings for him even after all the time they'd spent with one another. Katya had seen it the moment she'd seen them together the first time, but she had been unaffected by their personalities then. She had no prior knowledge and no personal interest before that and it had given her insights she wouldn't have if she'd met them before. Then again, she wouldn't have been sitting across from Natasha with such nonchalance if she hadn't watched her and her partner for over a year before being brought in.

"You were angry at him." Katya finally spoke, wondering if that was enough of a prompt to figure out what Natasha was thinking while she was punishing him. She wanted her to be able to talk to her, a strange feeling to have when she knew that trust wasn't exactly something they could give her. She was too wild for that.

"You know why." Natasha's voice was carefully blank, like she was trying not to show any emotion about the entire situation. Was she angry that Katya had figured it out? There was no tensing of her posture, though she did look away when Katya looked up curiously trying to figure out how to answer.

"I do." Katya answered out of habit, unsure whether that was a statement or a question.

"He's not the smartest man out there. Great with sighting and his weapon of choice, but no matter what I do, he thinks we're just partners." Natasha's words bordered on something of a rant, her eyes taking on a hint of anger at the thought that he saw her as nothing more than a partner, someone he trusted, but didn't, couldn't, love. Katya wondered if it was her place to suggest he had an interest in her romantically, but knew it wasn't. If he wanted her to know, he would tell her. Besides that, Katya understood Natasha's insecurities all too well. The thought that someone could love her, after all she'd done, was ridiculous. As much as Katya like the man with no name, there was no way he could love her. She had done too much evil to be deserving of love.

"Men aren't as smart as they think they are." Katya knew this to be true from all the times she'd managed to kill them when they were distracted by the length of her skirt or the swell of her breasts. They gave away details they shouldn't in intimate situations and she had been privy to all sorts of twisted details of those men's minds while in such situations. They thought themselves clever, above the laws of human nature and kindness and had no idea that she was the one about to end their reign. They just assumed she was a pretty face and a mature body, nothing more.

"I second that." Natasha sighed, finishing the sandwich she'd ordered for lunch. Katya wondered if she should be done as well, but Natasha didn't show signs of annoyance, so she finished her own food, glancing up to find that the woman across from her was watching her carefully.

"What?" She asked, suddenly on alert. Had Natasha seen the man? Did she somehow know that she was hiding something? Clamping down on all out panic, Katya kept her eyes on Natasha, waiting for her to speak.

"Today has been… nice." She finally spoke, seeming unsure how to say what she meant. It was odd to see the Black Widow at a loss for words, even if she was just Natasha at the moment. Katya knew that she was trying to convey something to her, but didn't quite understand what it was or why she felt the need to say it so determinedly.

"Yeah, it, uh, has been." Katya couldn't stop herself from stumbling over words, not quite sure how to react. Did Natasha expect something from her? A certain answer?

"Clint and I have been talking." Natasha started, which had Katya shifting in her seat and glancing around, wondering if she had a place to run. With the man with no name nearby, she would have help if she was suddenly sent out on her own, if they decided to kick her out. But she found she didn't want to be on her own again, though she decided resolutely not to investigate that feeling. She waited for the other shoe to drop, shifting again uncomfortably when Natasha eyed her critically. "It's not bad. At least, we don't think so. It's just, Stark has been talking about finding you a room on one of the other floors, one of the temporary housing units he built for the members of SHIELD that were still loyal. Clint and I wanted to ask you, though, if you wanted to stay with us. Long term."

Katya didn't know what to say, confused. She had assumed she'd be asked to leave at some point, made to find her own place, something like that. She hadn't thought about the long term, something that wasn't new or concerning to the woman herself. She never thought long term. There usually wasn't one within reach and even when there was she always knew what to do because her handlers always told her. She'd never been given such a choice before.

"I don't understand." She finally informed Natasha, unsure of how to talk to the woman at the moment.

"We want to know if you want to live with us. Stay in the room we gave you." Natasha explained, something of understanding coming across her face. "Like in the Room. You had a room that you stayed in that was yours, remember?"

She did remember. It was white, as all the rooms were, with a wire framed bed that had a thin mattress on it with even thinner sheets. She was allowed books on a bookshelf made of metal that was bolted to the floor and she had a small window with bars on it that kept her from escaping. Those were the only things in her room. The floor was cold cement and it was nothing like the room she had been given in Natasha and Clint's apartment. The similarities ended with her staying in them both.

"I thought… I thought I wasn't staying. I thought I was going to leave, when I healed. They want to know things about me. I thought…" She finally just trailed off, hating the vulnerable feeling that was washing over her.

"Katya, malyshka, no one is going to hurt you. Not while Clint and I are around. We're asking to make sure you want to stay. We'll watch out for you no matter where you are, but it would be easier and probably safer for you if you did decide to stay on our floor. We're trying to help you. We want to help you." The term of endearment was unexpected, falling from Natasha's lips as though she had used it before when referencing Katya, who hadn't heard it from anyone before. Still, the words struck a nerve in her, causing her to glance away from Natasha's seeking gaze, her eyes glazing as she fought tears.

"I want to stay." She murmured, knowing that she had to. The man with no name knew where she was and she couldn't just move away. He would get suspicious and possibly violent, depending on what had happened to him since his last wipe. She didn't want that. Besides that point, Natasha and Clint were the first people to be nice to her since the man, they were kind and Natasha bought her new things, something she'd never had before.

"I'm glad." Natasha sounded sincere and Katya glanced at her to find that she was smiling, a real smile, like the one she'd had on the other day playing with the Nerf guns. Katya very slowly smiled back, hoping it didn't look too forced. "We better get going. Clint will be excited. Be warned, he's a hugger."

Katya got up as Natasha did, grabbing the bags she set down around her. Frowning, she tried to figure out what a 'hugger' was.


	12. Chapter 12

**I know I've been doing two at a time lately, but don't get too excited about that. I just like to do it because I'm pretty far into the story right now. Anyway, Katya's starting to make friends in this one and finally fitting in with Natasha and Clint! Let me know what you think! **

She was finally alone! Her heart thumped anxiously in her chest as she reached into her pocket and pulled out the napkin the man had given her, un-crumpling it carefully, as if it was made of gold and would break if she was too rough. Spreading it out, she found his messy scrawl over half the napkin, a date, place, and time spread out before her. Her breath caught in her lungs and she almost cried with relief, clutching the note like it was her only lifeline.

He was coming back for her.

She wanted to stay with Natasha and Clint. She really did. She'd found out what Natasha had meant by Clint being a hugger when he'd pulled her against him and wrapped her in his arms tightly after finding out that she was staying, his face pulled into an excited smile. She'd done her best to return it, had tried to keep him as happy as he seemed to be as he helped her put her bags in her room, which was now officially her room and not just their guest room. She'd let him be happy, even when she wasn't sure what she felt. Content, maybe. In that moment, she had the two people who were offering to help with her future and the one who had helped in her past wasn't far away. It was like a dream come true, though she'd never been that creative in her dreams.

Still, seeing the man with no name was better than all of that. It was better than anything she could think of and she memorized the meeting place, Central Park, and the date, three days from then. The time was set at midnight, giving her time to slip out and find him. No one but the drug addicts and cons would be in the park at that time, perfect for their purposes.

She couldn't wait.

She finally stopped staring at the writing, knowing she should burn the napkin to hide any evidence of him contacting her from anyone who would be interested. Only, she didn't exactly have access to a lighter and she wasn't quite sure what to do that didn't involve burning it, so she walked over to the bed she'd been sleeping in, tucking the note under her pillow and smiling at the arrangement. It felt nice to have something more of him than just the star necklace around her neck, which would be destroyed as soon as he was free from HYDRA. They'd already come to that conclusion years ago, when he'd first given it to her. It was never meant to be fully hers, she was just protecting it for him.

"Hey, Katya, there's someone here to see you!" Katya turned towards the voice, recognizing Clint's easy going nature in his words. She started out of her room, walking into the living room to find that Captain America was there with two other people. She recognized the woman, who was in a wheelchair and smiling at something while the other man she didn't know, though Cap seemed to know him pretty well.

"I hope you don't mind, I brought some friends to meet you." Cap informed her, a smile on his handsome face. She moved slowly into the room from her spot frozen in the doorway of the bedroom that was now hers, eyeing the newcomers curiously. "This is my current best friend, Sam Wilson. Codename: Falcon."

Katya recognized the name from some files she'd read, but she didn't have a face to award it until now. Nodding slightly at the man, she found him smiling casually back at her, like she wasn't an assassin able to kill him. She found it soothing.

"And this is my girlfriend, Sharon Carter." Cap put a hand on the blonde woman's shoulder, the one she'd fought by during the invasion of the Playground, as they all called the SHIELD facility. She'd been shot, Katya remembered that clearly, and she was actually happy to see that the woman was alright, though a little pale. "She insisted on coming to meet you."

"We fought together and she helped save our lives. Of course I wanted to meet her." Sharon Carter rolled her blue eyes, smiling at Katya. Katya just watched her, watched them all, unsure why they'd want to meet her. Sure, she'd helped blow up a building, but she hadn't done anything personally for any of them, so she was having a hard time coming up with something to say that would be appropriate in such a situation.

Not only that, but she hadn't really been allowed to talk to people in such an easy social setting before. It was a little unnerving. Turning to Katya, Sharon spoke again. "I have to get back to my room soon, they're still monitoring me and everything, but it's really nice to see that you're in clothes that aren't scrubs."

The amused smile on Sharon's lips told Katya that she was joking, making small talk, while the tensing of Sam Wilson spoke volumes for how much he trusted her.

"It's nice to see you patched up. And to know who you are." Katya offered back, with a small, peace keeping smile. Sharon seemed to beam at her, while Katya noticed she was still armed, even in the wheelchair. She realized that Sharon Carter was stronger than she seemed, but she knew that from when she'd been shot and kept fighting against the intruders as if nothing had happened. Apparently, she'd been shot a few times, judging by the bulk of bandages she'd been shot once in the thigh, once in the stomach, and once in her shoulder. She didn't have a sling on, which was odd, but Katya figured she had healed enough not to need one if she wasn't moving it.

They talked for a little while longer, Katya and Sharon, while the men looked on, carefully keeping an eye on Katya, as if she would attack the woman. Natasha was on the couch, watching quietly, while Clint broke in every once and a while, offering up his own opinions. Katya could sense Sam's hesitancy, but he seemed to calm the more she talked. She didn't say much of anything, just told Sharon about her day with Natasha and the rest of her side of the story with the fall of the Playground, which Sharon seemed interested in.

Sharon informed her of her side of the story, how they'd fought their way out with a lot of casualties. Agent May had been shot as well, but not critically and she'd helped Sharon out of the fray and down to the meeting point that Katya hadn't gotten to. She also told her about how shitty the food was when she was in medical and how she couldn't wait to get out. She informed her that they were going out to coffee as soon as she was well enough to go out and that they were going to be seeing a lot of each other considering she lived in the Tower now as well.

Surprisingly, Katya was almost sad when Cap mentioned that he needed to get her back to observation before Dr. Banner had a conniption. Their talk had only lasted a little bit, maybe fifteen minutes, but Sharon hadn't treated her like she was dangerous of anything and had seemed genuine in her attempts to form a friendship, something Katya hadn't had many opportunities to do with anyone outside of the Room.

"I'll have JARVIS send you a message as soon as I'm let out." Sharon promised with a grin as Cap turned her around in her wheelchair. He sent Katya a grateful grin before he pushed her into the elevator.

"I'll see you around too, Katya." Cap offered as Sam made his way into the elevator with him, before disappearing behind the doors. He was one of the nicest to her and she had only returned the favor to his girlfriend, who seemed overly kind as well. Strong, too, if Katya was any judge. And she was an excellent judge of character. She had to be in her line of work.

"Alright. Have a nice night." Katya waved slightly as the door closed and Sharon waved back with a grin, something that was a little unnerving. Most people tried to avoid Katya once they knew who she was and what she was capable of. They didn't try to get closer by any means. Sharon was a welcome relief from some of the fear she'd seen in the eyes of some of the other Stark employees. Like some sort of soothing balm to put over the pain of being seen as dangerous when she didn't want to kill anyone anymore. Not that she ever had particularly wanted to.

"You made a friend." The day she didn't flinch when Clint threw an arm around her shoulders would be a day to celebrate, she decided, letting him pull her against his body even as she tried her hardest not to wince at the contact, probably failing miserably.

She was shorter than him by a bit, but his contact was comforting in a way other people's closeness wasn't. She didn't know why, he had shot her, after all, but she'd known it had been an automatic reaction and he did change his aim so that he didn't kill her. Rationalizing it didn't lessen the act, but it made it less painful to think about.

"Uh, I guess." She shrugged a bit, unsure what they expected her to say in such a situation considering she'd never been in it before.

"That's good, Katya. Really good." Natasha informed her with a wan smile, still on the couch. She showed signs of trusting the people who had just left, which put Katya more at ease. She herself liked the Captain, he reminded her of the man with no name on some level, but he was also kind and made sure to not treat her any differently than he treated anyone else. People were always tiptoeing around her and it made her more on edge and ready to strike, while he did his best to make her more comfortable just with his nearness.

She wondered if she'd see him more.

"Wanna watch a movie with us?"


	13. Chapter 13

**So I totally didn't know how to check the reviews and I want to thank every for reviewing. This is only my second story on here so I'm still getting into the swing of things. This one has some TRIGGER WARNINGS in it. Mention of rape and beatings as well as a description of torture. It's a small description and I don't go into detail of the rapes, but they are mentioned. **

**This also has some Cap love because he's awesome. I thought I posted this a while back, so there are actually going to be three chapters today, since I feel bad for making you wait so long. **

**Again, thanks to everyone for reviewing! **

It was only two days before she saw the Captain again and he requested that she went with him to the communal floors to work in the gym on combat and training. Katya went up with him willingly enough, eager for someone who would put her abilities to the test when the rest of them were more worried about her being hurt or hurting herself because of her injuries.

They didn't seem to realize that she was used to working through pain and knew which movements would make it worse than it already was. Their concern was unwarranted and a little annoying if she was being completely honest with herself. She never had those problems in the Room, for obvious reasons. No one ever stopped her from training, not even the time she broke her back after jumping off a building to avoid arrest. They'd simply allowed her to work out her frustrations and made sure that she healed properly.

Moving fluidly through her Sun Salutations for yoga, Katya watched as Cap worked on the punching bag, a place he had told her she wasn't allowed at because of the injury to her wrist, which was proving harder to heal than it was supposed to be. Her wrap from her ankle was gone, which was nice, but there was still a wrap on her wrist to keep it immobile. They'd had a brief 'discussion' about her doing yoga. Apparently, the Captain was a worrier, which she hadn't been expecting.

"So, you work out a lot?" It was the first words he'd said to her since they'd made it to the gym and she glanced at him from the downward dog position, stretching sore muscles that hadn't been worked in a while. It felt great.

"I was required to work out at least eight hours a day while in the program. Additional time was reserved for learning languages before missions and the like. Etiquette lessons, history lessons, Mathematics, those sorts of things." Katya explained, reciting her answer from memory. She'd heard it repeated enough that it was one of the few things she remembered clearly from before her missions happened.

She remembered the mind-numbingly boring lessons that came before a mission, learning languages and mannerisms and trying to figure out an approach that would work with the current target. She remembered working out for hours, sparring, shooting, stretching, running, it was all emblazoned in her brain as part of her, more so than anything else she'd ever done. It was meant to stay, no matter how many times they wiped her, no matter how often she no longer remembered anything about herself. She still remembered how to fight.

"Sounds exhausting." He commented softly. He didn't ask more, which was what was nice about him. He could sit with her in silence and let her work while he worked and they didn't have to talk about things that were painful or confusing.

"It was. There were times when I would fall asleep during lessons, but…" She trailed off, grimacing, her mind starting to whirl in hundreds of directions before she dropped to the floor rapidly, a memory assaulting her, one that had a hand at her head as she tried to shove it off.

_ She was awoken with a painful wrench, someone yanking her from her seat violently, their hands bruising in their strength. She fell hard, pain sliding through her hip as she landed funny, bone slamming into the floor and instantly starting to bruise. Her eyes were wide as she realized what had happened, the mistake she'd made that would cost her dearly. She was so stupid to let her eyes slide closed, she knew better, it wasn't allowed, but she'd trained for twelve hours the day before and had language lessons after four hours of sleep. She couldn't stay awake. _

_ Her eyes slid to the furious face of her teacher, who backhanded her for her indiscretion, sending her reeling to the side. She made no move to stop her momentum and her jaw bounced off the chair she'd been forced into for the lesson, her head bouncing back and pain radiating through her face. _

_She let him grab her and drag her bodily to her feet, allowing him to manipulate her in a way that sickened her as he shoved her over her desk, so she was laying on it with her feet planted on the ground, her ass sticking out towards him. He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back in at an awkward angle, her scalp screaming in protest. It was only her stronger bones that kept her neck from snapping at the force while he brought the ruler he'd been using as a pointer down across her back so hard that the slap of flesh sounded excruciating to her own ears before the pain even registered. _

_ She bit into her bottom lip viciously to hold in the painful whimper she was close to issuing. She choked back any noise as he yanked down the scrubs she'd been given that morning, her underwear going with it, the haunting sound of a belt being removed the last thing she heard before…_

She shook off the memory viciously, not wanting to remember the rest as her breathing came in ragged gasps, her arms wrapping around her stomach to fight back the nausea that was threatening to engulf her at the thought of the things he had done to her body, the invasion that had followed.

"Are you alright? Katya?" The sound of the Captain's voice, soothing but urgent, brought her the rest of the way back to the present, her eyes, wide and full of unshed tears, swinging around to find him kneeling next to her, his hands hovering uncertainly about a foot away from her. She was decidedly thankful that he hadn't tried to touch her, that she hadn't hurt him in the midst of her flash back, that he'd been out of the way and safe from who she could be, if she let that side of her out. The side that was like a wild animal when threatened.

Because she knew from some very fuzzy experiences that she was dangerous when she wasn't in her own head.

"I… I'm sorry." She flinched back when he laid a hand gently on her shoulder, sure he was moving to hit her even though she knew rationally that he never would. He was Steve Rogers, Captain America, the Golden Boy. He was practically the poster boy for how to treat women and she was irrationally terrified of what he would do to her now that she had a memory of something she wasn't supposed to remember, something that she didn't _want_ to remember.

"You don't have to be sorry, Katya. You never have to be sorry for who you are, alright?" He informed her seriously, never losing eye contact. That brought on another memory, one that she hadn't quite forgotten, but that became crystal clear as his face transformed into someone else's.

_"Katyen'ka, never apologize for who you are. Do you hear me? Never." Blue grey eyes met hers and she nodded slowly as his hand, the metal one, reached out and nudged her chin up, reminding her gently to hold her head high, even in the midst of impossible odds._

She flinched back as the door to the gym banged open and she found herself grabbing the Captain's arm for support, panic clouding her mind for long enough that she was closer to him, even though she'd been terrified of him just a moment ago.

"Is she alright?" It was Clint and Natasha. Katya's panic ebbed a little, but she didn't let go of Cap, who moved gently to pet her hair. It was a calming movement and she let him so long as he didn't try and hurt her or move too fast. It eased the pain in her head from the memory, which was becoming dizzying. She was glad she was sitting down, in all honesty.

"I think she remembered something. Something she wasn't supposed to." The Captain informed them as though she wasn't even there, as if she couldn't hear him. She should probably start thinking of him as Steve, even though he'd never told her she could call him that. There was just something about him that put her more at ease than with most people. She didn't want to admit it, but he was comforting. Like a soothing balm to the ache in her heart. Something she'd never delved into too much. She didn't want to think, to remember. She wanted to be kept out of the questioning units, wanted to be hidden away as she had been for the last week. She liked being hidden in Stark's Tower, where she could easily pretend nothing had happened to her that wasn't out of the ordinary.

Where she could pretend that Clint and Natasha had been with her for her entire life. That they'd never had a reason to distrust her, even if that reason was still there, lurking in the back of her mind, in the back of their minds.

"Stay here." Natasha's voice was stern and Katya tensed, ready to run at the first sign of trouble. She shuffled away as Natasha approached, her crawl pathetic as she hid by Steve, who let her practically crawl into his lap, his sad blue eyes rising to meet Natasha's. The woman had stopped a few feet away, lowering herself to the ground as well.

The analytical part of her brain knew that Natasha was trying to use that as an equalizer, that she wasn't grossly outnumbered in their facility and that she wasn't in any immediate danger. In all honesty, Katya was surprised a SHIELD SWAT team hadn't burst into the room and tried to neutralize her.

"Katya, I need you to tell me what you remembered." Natasha started in a soothing, low tone that was meant to make Katya feel better. Katya herself just stared at her, able to feel the heat coming off Steve's body because she was so close to him, still sidling closer the closer Natasha got. Because she knew that the closer she got, the more chances that she could kill her with no reaction time.

"I'm sorry." She repeated, knowing it wouldn't help. It had never helped before, why would it start now?

"I know you didn't mean to remember, but you did and that's alright." Natasha reminded her, which was starting to sound familiar. Someone in another time had told her as much. "Why don't you tell me what you were talking about when you remembered?"

"It was my fault." Steve mentioned tensely, his hand resting on Katya's head for a moment, stopping it's restless movements mid-motion. She glanced at him in confusion.

No one ever took the blame for her.

There was no one to do it. She was kept away from the other recruits, trained separately unless they wanted to show the other girls how dangerous they could be. She was a warning. Hell, she was _the_ warning. If they didn't turn out like her, they were neutralized. None of them would dare stand up for her because they would be happy if she was dead or punished, anything to make her disappear so that they weren't held to her standards, which were almost impossible to achieve considering she was the only one that the serum had worked on so completely.

"We were talking about working out." Katya informed Natasha, watching her carefully. She didn't look angry or upset, just confused and worried.

"What about it?"

"About if I work out a lot. I did. In the Post Room, I worked out eight hours a day at least before a mission. Then there were debriefings and lessons and I remembered a lesson." Katya offered slowly, her Russian accent a little more pronounced as her tongue fought to shape words that were suddenly heavy on her tongue. She found that she didn't want them to know what had happened, what she knew had happened. The feeling of vulnerability was suddenly so strong that she shrunk in on herself, hating how broken she must seem to the people around her, the people she looked up to. She was no more than a broken child in those moments.

"And what lesson was it?" Natasha asked as gently as she seemed able, kind eyes on Katya. Katya wanted to hide from that look. It was too nice for someone like her.

Thinking hard, she thought through the memory, fighting the impulse to just push it back into the hole it came from. She didn't want to relive the moment. She never wanted to relive the moments she remembered. They were usually gone by the next wash anyway, so she tried her hardest to ignore them if they cropped up until they took her into the white room and strapped her into the machine that took parts of her life away.

To her knowledge, they had no means of implanting new memories besides the effects of suggestion. But that didn't make the memories she remembered any less real. And the ones that were haunting her were the ones she didn't want to have, the ones she didn't want to remember.

Thinking back, she remembered a blurry impression of the board before her, the one with the lesson plan on it. It was in a different language, but one that was as familiar to her as English.

The symbols on the board were easily deciphered, even blurry from time. She could still remember the look of her own hands and the leer on her tutor's face while he stared at those small hands, smaller than her full grown ones. She was about… about the age when she first went to the classes on seduction. And he was the master.

"It was seduction one oh one. I had just passed the first phase and I… I fell asleep. In class." She stopped talking, eyes turning to Natasha's and catching their gaze. Bright green bore into pale blue and she could see the knowledge in that gaze. Natasha knew what would happen if she fell asleep. There were protocols and there were perverts everywhere.

Panic was threatening once again, at that look, the ones the other females gave her when she was about to be punished. She would be punished in front of them sometimes. She tried to make it look painless, like one more thing they had to endure, and she hoped they took the information she gave and stored it away, remembered it the way she remembered the feelings of embarrassment and resentment. The emotional trauma that came with sexual abuse as well as the scars she bore from nights spent tied to ceilings stripped naked and left to stew. She remembered all too much of that abuse. Once the well was opened, it kept leaking, giving her images and flashes of things better left unseen.

She brushed a hand along the scars on her wrists, the ones she usually hid with bracelets or the like while out on missions. She'd forgotten about them, they were so light, barely even puckered. They hadn't existed until she remembered the pain of the wires cutting through her skin as she tugged to get free, not caring about the warmth of the blood sliding down her arms as she did her best to free herself so she could run, so she could go back to her room and hide from the people who had hurt her.

Eyes were immediately drawn to the marks by her absent motion and she knew when they saw them because Clint swore softly, turning away and running a hand over his face while Steve stiffened and almost pulled away from her, finding it in him to stay still while she flinched away, expecting… something.

A blow maybe. That was a common theme throughout her torture.

"Katya, I know what the punishments were. I know better than anyone else what you're going through. The flashbacks…" Natasha glanced back at Clint, who was still tense and agitated, making Katya recant her decision to move away from Steve and tuck herself into his side again. Focusing back on Katya, Natasha continued. "The flashbacks are going to get worse before they get better. The ones that are more traumatizing, they'll happen after the initial first few. I know that one was bad, but you need to realize, you're safe here. We won't let them have you again."

Natasha spoke slowly, like she was slightly scared as well. It helped Katya to listen to her voice, to think about the things she said. To focus on anything but the memories. It was almost unthinkable that worse things had happened to her besides being violated by men more than twice, sometimes three times her age, but she knew it was true. There was a part of her that was still aware, a part that was warning her. The worst was yet to come.

It took her a few moments to remember that she wasn't a helpless twelve year old little girl anymore, that she wasn't stuck in a room with a teacher who enjoyed prepubescent teenage girls in his down time. She was in the gym, in Avengers Tower, surrounded by superheroes who were world renowned.

When she did, she practically collapsed onto the gym floor, falling back onto her bum with a small thump that had Clint spinning around to look at her, make sure she was alright. Instead of seeing his reaction, she had her forehead resting against Steve's shoulder. The super soldier made no move to change position as she cooled down, breathing deeply and fighting the memories back into the cages they usually slept in. She knew half of their memory wipes only worked because she wanted them too, because she was open to the manipulation as long as it kept the nightmares at bay, but she'd never wondered what it would be like to remember those parts.

Slowly, she came back to herself. When she was fully there, she pulled away from Steve and he let her go, watching as she turned to face the two assassins in front of them.

Gone was the scared girl who had once been. In her place was the competent assassin, the memories safely locked away as she considered their appearances. Agitated, concerned, Natasha was finally being real. The look in her eyes held none of the emptiness that came from undercover work and her expression was pulled into a tight frown. She had never seen it, but recognized it none the less. It seemed right, on her face.

Clint was another matter altogether. His agitation bordered on violent outburst and she was suddenly worried he would explode and leave her with nothing to fall back on. As steadying as Steve was, Clint had been the rock she'd depended on while in SHIELD custody. He was always witty, always calm, and she had come to depend on that part of him. Seeing him this way, unable to calm down, his body tense and his actions jerky and unprofessional, it made her want to back away slowly, as if the entire experience she'd had with them was going to end now that Clint was so troubled.

"We need to talk about this. Rationally." Natasha warned, the concern so evident the moment before wiped away, leaving the face of a professional in its wake. It was almost reassuring, that quick switch from emotion to nothingness. It relaxed Katya slightly.

"I understand what will happen. It will get worse before it gets better. The trauma was already there so it can't hurt as bad in the beginning, right?" Katya gave a nervous laugh, knowing that wasn't true. "I'm older now. I can handle it better than before."

She knew the last part was more of a dressing up than anything. Just because she wasn't experiencing it now didn't mean that it wasn't going to hurt just like it had. She could still feel the phantom pain in her wrists from the torture exercises, but that didn't mean she'd let it show. She needed to be strong for as long as she could be. If the man with no name was around, he was watching, and he'd see if she was upset or suffering and then he'd get himself killed trying to get her out. If she couldn't be strong for herself, she could be strong for him.

"There's a guy I know that you can talk to. He understands suppressing emotions more than most and will probably be happy to talk to you if he isn't busy. I can ask him to put aside some time. It's not therapy, but it's more than nothing. He's a doctor and more than willing to help." Natasha offered softly, still analytical, but letting a little of her emotions show.

"Yeah. Okay."


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry again for making you wait so long. Here's the next instalment of our saga, which contains yet another Avenger because they really are all supposed to be in this story at one point or another. Enjoy and let me know what you think!**

Turned out, Natasha's 'friend', was Dr. Bruce Banner, also known as the Hulk.

Katya wasn't afraid as she sat with the Doctor, she was more curious than anything. She knew about Natasha's past with the man and wondered what made her feel comfortable leaving her down there in a closed lab by herself with one of the only people in the building who had a chance of killing her. Then again, they had greeted one another with a friendly enough chat about the weather and life in general before Natasha had introduced Katya to him. Maybe their luck had changed and they really were friends as Natasha had tried to convince her before.

"So, I hear you're remembering things." He didn't bother beating around the bush, his nervous eyes sliding to her face before sliding away just as quickly. They were seated at a lab table, on stools, his equipment spread out between them. She didn't mind having the table between them if it meant she was safer in case he did decide to Hulk out. And she was sure he didn't mind having it there when she could easily attack. She might not be able to kill him, but she was sure she could pull the Hulk out and she wondered if he was afraid that she would try just to see what happened.

She wanted to tell him she wouldn't provoke him, that she was smarter than that, but she kept it to herself, instead thinking about what to tell him.

"I get flashbacks." She offered hesitantly, wondering how he could help with something like that.

She knew about Bruce Banner, the Gamma radiation specialist. He knew everything there was to know about the poisonous waves and had tested them on himself, which resulted in his big, green problem. He was a genius, the complete opposite from Tony Stark himself, but Katya had trouble seeing him as someone who would experience such a trauma as what she had. Even though he was older, premature greys peppering his hair, he seemed strong enough to fight off such an attack. It would be hard to imagine him as vulnerable.

"Natasha mentioned those while setting up our little talk. I was wondering if anything triggered those. Like, a certain smell or a word choice that makes you remember your past?" He didn't mention the Room, but she was sure he was curious. Everyone had to be. No one had found the audacity to ask, but they were probably curious as to why she didn't talk about it. Why she'd buried those secrets so deep. The memories were the reason, but they would never know. She knew better than to push her weaknesses out into the open.

"No. Once it was triggered by Steve talking to me. Another time it was because Natasha said something a certain way and it reminded me of someone else, in a different time. It's not words, they were two different triggers. Steve was just talking about working out while Natasha said her words a specific way." Katya explained clinically, trying to impress on him the difference.

"It might be wise to document the different triggers to see if there's a correlation. You could keep a small notebook on you at all times and jot down whatever makes you remember something. It might not help, memory loss is very unpredictable, no matter the means. You could get all of your memories back, none, or just a few. It depends on your brain and how long the information had to create neuro-pathways that will help you remember." He explained sounding, well, like a doctor, even if she knew he wasn't that kind of doctor.

"If you think it might help." She didn't think it would. If there were any triggers, they were probably made by the Room and that meant completely random or case related. She didn't trust her memory any more than she trusted the scientists who made her into what she was.

"It could. Enough about the memories, though. Those will come in due time. The thing I'm here to talk to you about, according to our resident assassins, is how to deal with those memories. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is very real and there's a good chance you'll be affected by it if you aren't already. Natasha wanted me to talk to you about how to deal with the trauma you were forced through so that you aren't thrown into a depression spiral, so to speak. She believes my experiences with the Other Guy will help you deal with your past." He explained, lacing his fingers and finally looking her in the eye. She could see that he was in his element. That element was apparently lecturing. "There are a few different tactics I've tried. Some were more sane than others, but whatever works for you.

"One that I've found therapeutic was meditation. Focusing your mind into a pinprick reduces stress and helps you deal with your anxiety and overall emotions with ease. It's a tried and true method with many people. Also, yoga. It's partly meditation, partly body manipulation."

"I already do yoga. To keep my flexibility." Katya interrupted, the words sounding rehearsed.

"Alright, maybe not yoga then. There are some more hands-on ones that help as well. Massages are said to be quite therapeutic, but you don't seem the type to allow a stranger to handle your body of your own free will. Acupuncture, if you could find someone you trusted. It's designed to relieve muscle tension, but relaxing the body can help relax the brain. Walks can help clear the mind as well as working out. Writing about what you're feeling in a journal. Uh, reading a book sometimes helps people. It's all about what you find comforting and familiar. As for your background, which I don't know much about, but I do know you're from the same facilities that Natasha is, I wouldn't recommend anything they allowed of you in the facilities. It could be a trigger and our goal is to calm you down, not find more memories.

"I printed out a list off of a self-help website I want you to take a look at. They're mostly to relieve you of the stress you're feeling as well as help you to calm yourself if something did crop up. My name and number are on the bottom if you have any questions or need to talk. If these don't work for you and you can't find something, come on down and we can see if we can find something else that will work." He informed her eagerly, sincerity in his gaze. Katya had assumed he'd only talked to her as a favor to Natasha, but now she wondered. Did he somehow care about her?

That was ridiculous. She brushed off the idea easily and moved on, standing and smiling just slightly before nodding a little. "Thank you for the list. I'll look at it."

She made no promises and he seemed to understand as they walked over to the elevator. She took the key Natasha had given her out of her pocket and stuck it in the key slot before pressing the floor she was going to. It wasn't Natasha and Clint's floor, she had a request to make of the only person she could think of who would help.

With a wave, the door closed and she was sent up to the next appointment she had, the one that the man she was going to see had no idea was coming.

A smile slid across her face as she waited to hit her next stop.


	15. Chapter 15

**And here's a little bit more. I'm tempted to leave it at this because of build up, of course, but I'm not sure I'll remember to update next week with Thanksgiving and all, so I'll give you another chapter. Or two. As a Thanksgiving treat! Happy Thanksgiving!**

The floor was eerily quiet, but it was still hospital care as evident by the beeps of various machines along the hall. Walking towards her destination, she tried to appear as if she knew where she was going, head held high, striding with purposeful strides. Most people walked right past her, not realizing who she was as she made her way past a dozen rooms, most of them holding victims of the shootings at the Playground who were still in critical care.

She scanned the names on the door plaques, hoping only to appear curious until she was met with the name Ward, Grant. The tiny smirk was back in place as she read it and she wiped it off firmly as she pushed open the door to find the man himself arguing with Fitz, the man in the wheelchair she had met earlier. The one who had amused her greatly and who she wanted to get to know a little better.

"You can't make me stay here, Fitz. We both know I'm doing better and it's not like I'm irreparably damaged. Get Simmons to let me out, she'll listen to you." Ward demanded, his voice low and firm as he tried to convince the kid to help him. She figured it was an intimidation measure and watched on with hidden amusement, wondering if Fitz would concede to his point. He didn't seem the type to argue with authority figures too much, but Ward didn't seem to be in a position of authority over the man anymore if what the rest of the Tower was saying was true. In fact, Simmons seemed to kind of hate him the last time she'd seen them together.

"You know the rules, Ward. I can't let you out, even if I wanted to and I don't. Jemma would have my head and you know it. Now, just take the rest of your mandatory recovery time like a man." Fitz spun in his wheelchair and she skillfully sidestepped him, offering him a nod as greeting when he finally noticed she was standing there. "Good luck with this one. Got a bad case of the sit ins."

Katya watched the kid wheel himself out before she turned to face Ward, who was watching her like she might attack him at any moment. It was almost funny that he had entrusted her with his life barely a week before hand and now didn't trust her to not kill him in his sleep, but she didn't bring it up, instead moving to occupy the chair next to his bed that was a mirror to the empty bed on his other side. From the reading material on his bedside table to the blanket thrown casually on the back of the chair she dropped into, she figured he had a frequent visitor, even if he was getting a bit edgy about being locked in a room. It was better than being alone, though. She knew that from experience.

"I can break you out." Her opening statement was the kicker. She had his complete attention and she saw it immediately, his eyes drawn to her face as he tried to figure out what she meant by that. His shoulders had stiffened and she knew he was excited, but wary, still unsure of her motives in showing up.

"Why?"

"I need a little help and you seem like the kind of guy who will know the information I'm looking for. It's nothing overwhelming and I won't ask much of you, but I think you'll find that it will pay." She answered lowly, wondering if his room was bugged. Even if it was, she could find ways out without him. It would just be easiest with his help, it wasn't impossible without it. However, she still hoped he'd help her.

"What's the price?" He wasn't an idiot.

"I need to know how to get out of the Tower without being seen. At least for a half an hour." She informed him, giving a little leeway for the amount of time she'd be with the man with no name. She figured she'd have about fifteen minutes with him before SHIELD figured out she was gone and started hunting her down systematically. By the time they caught up, he'd be long gone and she'd have the peace of mind she was looking for.

"Why should I give you that? You're an assassin." He reminded her, as if she ever forgot that little tidbit of her identity. She figured he'd think she was out for a hit, but she'd hoped he wouldn't ask questions in his haste to get out of the hospital. She wasn't that lucky.

"If you need to, you can tail me. I'm meeting up with a man I used to know. He wanted me to meet him at midnight tonight in the park down the street. I need to go and figure out what he remembers about me." She informed him, which wasn't a lie. She was being as truthful as possible, actually, but the desperate look she shot him was manipulation at its finest.

She would find a way out if he refused.

It wouldn't be as kind and would probably get a few people injured, but she would get out to meet the man with no name even if it killed her. Because, if she didn't show, it would get him killed and everyone in the Tower, if he was in such a mood. And she wasn't going to risk his life just because she was afraid of a little retaliation.

"You'll get me out of here tonight?" He asked, interest peaked. Glancing around surreptitiously, she nodded.

"Tonight."

Night fell and she was sneaking out of her room like a regular teenager. At least, like the ones she saw on TV when she was allowed to watch it. Slipping out of the room in dark clothing, not all black, but grey and dark browns, she made her way silently to the elevator that would take her down to Ward's floor. The door was already open and she figured that was JARVIS giving his blessing to her current mission, which was more comforting than it should have been.

Slipping in, the elevator moved by itself.

'Do not think I will help you sneak around every day, Miss Katya.' The electronic voice offered indifferently. Katya smiled grimly at the camera that was stationed in the corner of the elevator, cocking her head to the side and letting her features soften just a moment before hardening them.

"I wouldn't dream of it, nemnogo elektronnyy." Katya promised, stepping out of the elevator and starting towards Ward's room.

**Nemnogo elektronnyy (According to Google Translate) means little electronic. Because robot is apparently robot in Russian and I feel like that's not as authentic. Not that this is either. I know no one that speaks Russian, so if anyone who speaks Russian would like to correct any of the language I use in here, go right ahead. Helpful critiquing is always welcome! **


	16. Chapter 16

**So, didn't realize this one was so long, but so much happens, so I'm leaving you with this. Hope you like it. Let me know what you think because I like this chapter. You'll see why in a moment. **

It didn't take them long to get out of the Tower. She was comfortable with their time and had even given a little more for her to be early because she knew that the man with no name would be there as soon as he could without being seen. He wouldn't like that she was being tailed, but he wouldn't attack if the star was still around her neck. It was a signal they'd agreed upon years ago and he still honored it when they were sneaking around. Of course, she hadn't trusted anyone enough to leave the star on before, so maybe he just attacked without thought and didn't remember the code by which they lived. It was certainly possible.

Walking down the street in the middle of the night in New York City was about as dangerous as it got, even in the rich part of the city. Businesses didn't mean there weren't gangs running around, so Katya had snitched a Glock and a set of throwing knives, knowing her roomies would realize they were missing as soon as they realized she was gone, which would be sooner rather than later.

Of course, that was the point. She wasn't hiding. She just needed a few minutes of alone time before she was dragged back to the Tower, probably kicking and screaming to be honest. She never wanted to leave the man's company once she was in it and she doubted that he would want to give her up easily. He always had the idea in his head that she was safer with him, even if he knew for a fact that she could take care of herself.

Sighing, she glanced sideways at the man next to her, who had yet to say a word since they made it out on the street. He was a little pale and sweating, but he didn't look too worse for wear. He probably shouldn't have been out of the hospital room, but she'd rigged up his equipment without a second thought. Her meeting was as imperative to his health as those machines would be if she left them on him, so she didn't really feel all that bad. She did feel a little guilty for his doctor, who she'd realized was Doctor Banner, with Simmons as backup. They would have a lot of work to do when he got back and she didn't like repaying the Doctor's kindness by stealing his patient out of his bed.

Still, it was necessary.

Looking ahead, she found they weren't far from the meeting place and she couldn't have him walking with her when they showed up. She'd informed him that he could watch from the sidelines, in the trees. The man wouldn't hurt him if he showed up seconds after her, but he would if he followed her all the way to him. So she motioned for him to back off a bit, walking calmly to the meeting point.

He was already there, sitting on a park bench, still as a statue in the darkness. It was familiar and welcoming, not in the sense that most people would think, but to her it was like a small piece of herself had returned. Walking forward with purposeful strides, she made it to his side in moments, dropping down to sit next to him, just far enough away that they weren't touching.

It was their common practice, to make sure he didn't hurt her if he didn't remember her. He always did remember, but the pattern had a comforting sort of familiarity and she didn't want to lose that.

"Where have you been?" She asked lowly, hoping Ward wouldn't hear her. She had acted as though she wasn't sure who he was, while she knew better than most people who he was made into. The man with no name was watching Ward, she was sure, as he looked past her at the trees, his expression drawn.

"You were followed." His voice was back to the Winter Soldier, not the man who had saved her and kept her safe for so long. He was robotic when he noticed Ward's presence, tense and ready to damage someone. Those slate blue eyes hit hers, strong and capable, his resolve set. If Ward was dangerous, he would kill him without hesitation. But there was something else there too, something she didn't know. Something that had her wondering if meeting with him was the best idea in the world.

"He's with me. I couldn't leave without an escort." She quipped, watching as his lips tilted into a semblance of a smile. She did her best to keep a confused frown off her face because the Winter Soldier didn't smile. She could count on one hand how many times she had even managed to make his lips twitch and now he was giving her little smiles.

Something was different.

"You still have the necklace." It wasn't a question, but Katya's confusion increased. The Winter Soldier she knew never pointed out the necklace. It was a silent agreement that, wherever they were, HYDRA could be listening. Or the Room. So they kept that part of their secrets to themselves. The acknowledgement was decidedly un-Winter Soldier and then she realized what was happening, something she should have realized days ago, weeks ago. It had been over a year since the fall of SHIELD, since he'd been in hiding from the agencies.

He remembered.

How much, she couldn't say, but it made her decidedly uncomfortable to be sitting with him suddenly. Because the things she knew about herself, the things she was remembering, none of them were good. What did he know about her? And did he think of her differently because of it?

She silently fingered the star that had a permanent home around her neck, wondering if he'd ask for it back. She wasn't the safest place to keep something so close to him. Plus, if he remembered, it was time to open up the star and look at the things it held. He could start making amends or whatever it was he was out to do, start righting the wrongs that were so stitched in the fabric of his being.

"I told you I wouldn't take it off." The beatings she had gotten for that one bit of defiance were still etched into her mind, untouched by the memory wipes that affected the rest of her time in the Room. They were so bad that not even the wipes could knock out the terror she'd felt as bones had snapped and bruises formed.

"You're in a good place now." He spoke slowly and she knew it wasn't the Winter Soldier she was talking to. He never mentioned the place she was staying unless she needed to leave it. He never reassured her because it would be lies. He always made sure to warn her about something, anything before she left. Usually it was that someone was out to kill her, which wasn't new, but this man, this man she didn't know. He was someone she hadn't met, someone he remembered but she didn't.

"I have a bedroom. With a real bed like the ones on TV." She informed him, something she wouldn't have said before either. She didn't watch TV in the Room unless she was being trained for something and that wasn't exactly TV. Still, he nodded like he knew what she was saying, giving her a chance to look over this man before her who wasn't quite her man.

He looked cleaner than she remembered from seeing him on the news a few days before. They were still hunting him down, but they had yet to realize he was following her. His hair had been cut recently and he'd shaved clean, making him look younger. Those eyes were brighter than before, actually held knowledge in them instead of the empty look of a killer who didn't care about his own life. He was still about twice her size, maybe more, still defined muscle under the sweater he was wearing, which was made of black material. It covered his metal arm, along with the gloves he was pulling from his hands. It had never bothered him when she'd looked at the arm he was so ashamed of, she had slowly realized years ago that she was the exception for most of his rules.

There was something else, though, something about him that screamed he wasn't who she cared about. It was probably the light in his eyes, if she was being honest. She didn't want to blame the first sign of happiness she'd seen in him, but it was the truth. The Winter Soldier didn't have happiness. He had regrets and shame and all the things she recognized within herself. And she didn't possess happiness. Not in the way his eyes did in that moment.

Sighing, she realized that it didn't matter. He was still the man who had kept her safe from harm and still the one that felt like home. She didn't have a choice because she cared. Something that could get her killed. Something her Winter Soldier had warned her against, time and time again, even as he kept showing up when she needed him. He'd always made sure she knew not to care about him, not to form attachments because he might not be there next time. Or, even worse, he might not know who she was and might try to kill her.

"I met Steve Rogers." She informed him, keeping her eyes on him even as a thousand thoughts swirled in her mind. He glanced at her, eyes slightly narrowed as surprise registered on his face. She knew he wouldn't know what to say. Steve Rogers was a friend of his back in the day and she'd seen their fight on TV, just bits of it, the other day before Clint had changed the channel. He'd tried to kill his best friend. If he remembered, then he knew who he was before HYDRA got a hold of him. And that meant she wasn't as important anymore.

"Really." He didn't sound interested, but she could see it in his eyes. He wanted to ask questions but he knew who she thought he was and was trying to stick to their roles as they had been for as long as she could remember. It hurt her in a way she hadn't felt before, her heart in pain as she glanced around.

"Yes. And they're coming. You need to disappear." She informed him, sliding back into the guise she knew so well. She stood before he had time to respond, turning away from him as clinically as she could. She ignored the fact that she didn't get the peace she'd been hoping for. It didn't matter. In the next few minutes, she'd be being dragged back to the Tower whether she went willingly or not. And she'd go willingly. Because there was nothing left for her in the unknown.

"Katyen'ka…" The Winter Soldier's rough voice sounded behind her and he pulled her around, his metal hand burying in her hair as he pulled her into his chest, the cool fingers pressing just shy of gently into her skull. She buried her face in his chest obediently, his other arm wrapping tightly around her waist and just holding her for a second. She fisted her fingers into his sweater, wanting nothing more than to punch him in the face for becoming something that she wasn't a part of. Beating him up wouldn't help, though.

He was the Soldier, the only one that mattered to her. His lips pressed into her hair and she could hear his heartbeat, as strong and steady as she remembered. She felt him slip something into her jean pocket, but she couldn't figure out what and didn't care at the moment.

All that mattered was that he did remember her. Even if he remembered more, this was his way of letting her know that she still _mattered_.

"I'll be watching." He murmured in her ear, tightening his hold for just a moment more before she heard the footsteps coming. Pushing back, she looked up at him, eyes wide and trusting because he might not be her Winter Soldier, but he still cared more than anyone she knew. Patting his chest gently, she took a step back and he glanced behind her, eyeing the people who were coming without blinking.

He pushed a piece of fallen blonde hair behind her ear and then walked away, taking off into the night. She watched him disappear before turning back to face what she'd engineered, the anger of her newest friends, if they could even be called that.

"We're in deep shit." Ward informed her, coming up to her side right as Clint, Natasha, Steve, and Stark in his suit came barreling into sight, Steve at the head just because of his super serum developed abilities. She placed her arms at her sides, easily seen with no weapons in sight, straightening her back, and blanking her features. Showing emotion would be a liability she couldn't allow at the moment.

Ward copied her positioning, his head held high as well. Katya wanted to warn him that he didn't have to shield her, but figured it would do more harm than good. They'd already seen him with her, there was no way he was getting out unscathed now.

"Katya!" Steve skidded to a halt right in front of her, eyes wide and fearful. She knew in that moment that he'd seen the man with no name, the one who was the Winter Soldier on his bad days. She hoped that he didn't see the metal hand. She knew that they had known one another, but not exactly how well. Of course, at the moment, that didn't matter.

"Are you alright?" Clint was on her next, but he didn't stop, instead just slowing enough that when he got his arms around her and pulled her in, he didn't hurt her. She flinched something fierce, still in her soldier mindset, but no one else seemed to notice. Not even seconds later, she was let go and the rest of the team converged, Clint glaring at Ward like he might attack at any moment while Natasha was eyeing Katya like she knew something not even Katya knew.

"You met someone. We need to know who." Natasha informed her right as Clint turned and completely decked Ward, his fist smashing into the other man's face.

The man fell to the ground with a grunt of pain, but no one else moved to help him. So Katya dropped to her knees and checked on him, finding him almost grey in his paleness with sweat matting his hair. He was worse off than she'd thought, but she didn't mention it, instead just making sure Clint hadn't broken his jaw or anything. He'd have a nasty bruise in the morning, but Clint hadn't done any damage that wouldn't clear up in a few days.

"What the hell, Clint?" She snapped, pushing violently to her feet. She squared off with the man who had saved her life, shoulders back, head up, fists clenched at her side. He had no right to start hitting people in her defense when the man who was with her had done nothing wrong. He'd just done as she had asked, which had saved all of their lives, even if they could never know it.

"He should have stopped you. Not just followed you to get out of a little recovery time. And you wonder why people don't trust you." Clint snapped at Ward, who physically flinched at what Katya perceived as a low blow.

"I asked him to come." She finally admitted, her teeth clenched as adrenaline seeped into her veins. They weren't safe if the Winter Soldier was still around. Even if he remembered things, there was a chance of relapse, of the part of him that was Winter Soldier coming out and killing them. She didn't want that. They needed to get in a safe place before he decided she was in danger.

"What?" Clint spit, his anger evident in the ticking of the muscle on his jaw. Katya didn't back down.

"The man who asked me to meet him here knew me. Before I met you. Before SHIELD fell. Before HYDRA was let into the light." She hissed, keeping her voice low in case someone was trying to listen in.

"Are you saying that that man was HYDRA?" Natasha asked, surprise on her features. They'd obviously seen the hug then.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." She wasn't surprised when the Iron Man suit powered up, guns pointing at her. She knew what it seemed like, what they could take it as, even as Steve stepped between her and Stark, his shield up and his stance protective. In fact, he was between her and Clint and Natasha as well, acting as a guardian.

"I know who it was." Steve informed them coldly, his back to her.

She wondered if he'd know. If he'd realize who it was she had snuck out to meet in the dead of night. And she could tell he knew, really knew who it was. In a way that she didn't. He knew the man before the Winter Soldier, the one who wasn't as deadly and terrifyingly beautiful.

"And who is so important that she snuck out of the Tower to meet with a HYDRA agent?" Stark snapped, the mechanical quality of his voice only making the implied insult worse.

"The Winter Soldier." Natasha answered, her face holding a look of shocked realization. Katya glanced at her, finding accusation in her eyes. Looking away, Katya found she couldn't keep her gaze, couldn't meet the slight betrayal there, not when she'd just started earning what little trust Natasha still had in her. Not when she wanted so desperately to keep it.

"She met with our sworn enemy to do what? Trade files?" Stark was obviously pissed off.

"He was my friend long before he was your enemy, Stark. Don't make any mistake about who my loyalties lie with. I said I would never be loyal to HYDRA. With a brain that works as fast as yours you must know why by now." Katya pushed past Steve and faced off with the billionaire, who seemed to pause. His weapons were still fully ready to go, but, after a moment of silent contemplation, his weapons lowered slowly, hands to his sides.

"You're friends with a ghost assassin?" Clint asked, sounding shocked and a little worried. It didn't make sense to Katya, who turned slightly to eye him curiously.

"You do realize I was a ghost assassin as well, right?" She asked, suddenly unsure about what he was asking.

"I know that, it's just…" He glanced at Natasha and she remembered the footage and the notes SHIELD had released. The Winter Soldier had tried to kill Natasha. Not just Steve. And Clint wouldn't forget that for a long time, not when it was the woman he loved at the other end of the gun. She didn't try to rationalize it, didn't tell him that The Winter Soldier had about as much control over his actions as she had had while in the Room. It wouldn't make it any better that she cared about someone who had tried to kill the love of his life.

"He came to talk to me, to make sure I was alright." Katya informed them, looking away from Clint and towards Natasha, who would understand her position better.

"What's his name?" The serious question came from next to her and she glanced at Steve in confusion.

"The Winter Soldier." She answered just as seriously, unsure what he was looking for. A frown marred his features and she wondered if she'd done something wrong.

"No, his real name." He clarified, which had Katya stiffening. She glanced at Natasha, who was waiting for an answer as well. Apparently, they all wanted to know if she knew who he had been before he'd become the Winter Soldier. Biting into her lip and hating herself for lack of answers, she shook her head.

"He didn't have one. He was built for the program. I was told only what I needed to know and he had no memory, so…" She trailed off, suddenly feeling a lot like a lost child. Her eyes flicked between the people before her and her fight or flight response started to kick in. They were watching her sadly, like she was someone to pity. And, if she knew anything, it was that she didn't like pity.

#6: Katya hated being pitied.

"Your last name, why did you pick that?" Steve asked slowly, making her wonder what he knew.

"I saw it in a file once. And the man with no name once said he thought his name started with a B. There were two B names in the file and I just assumed…" She trailed off and stared at Steve, who was watching her still. "You know who he was. Of course you do, you were friends."

"I do know." Steve nodded slightly and she knew she wasn't going to get the name from him. But her last name, the one she had chosen, would be enough if she wanted to know. She only had to search it. Her computer skills were basic, but she knew that at one point she'd been able to search things on computers. If she could do that again, she could find his name. But she wasn't sure if she wanted to find out that way.

"And you're not going to tell me." She stated, knowing the answer before he even gave her that look, the sad one.

"I think it would mean more coming from him." He answered honestly. She looked away then, turning to help Ward up from the ground. He took her hand with good grace, rising from his sitting position and letting her start pulling him towards the Tower. She figured he had helped her and it was only fair that she return the favor considering how much of a raw deal he'd gotten. She'd dragged him into a war he wasn't prepared for. One between HYDRA and SHIELD, one that questioned everything they believed in.

Katya had no such qualms. She didn't believe in anything, not anything that she remembered. The fall of SHIELD and the rise of HYDRA had simply been a regime change to her. They weren't uncommon, though it had annoyed her when her mission had abruptly changed to watch Clint Barton as though he would change the course of history himself. It had been her very own suicide mission, she had known from the start but was unsure why.

Thinking of the Soldier running out on HYDRA, though, she had to wonder if it had something to do with him defecting. Had he unknowingly almost been the cause of her death?

Shaking thoughts like that off, she kept walked towards the Tower, the heroes trailing behind her.

**AHHH! What do you think? **


End file.
